Tags
death, family, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, love, memory, reason, relationship, spirit, truth, wisdom
thought I not of turning back
to places of my own ~
how many names forgotten
are written now to stone
a night or two
a date long passed
survived by briar and sweat
eternity foreshadowed
by moments of regret
and stood I there
more times than told
to watch as prophets marched
from shiny limousines
with linen collars starched
without a tear between them
didn’t know of plans to live
or truth that went the way
of moss –
another to forgive
the coming home for more than this
than scripture without verse
lights returned the lonely here
as destinies rehearsed
as loving lips were robbed
of voice –
words to fall apart
asleep beneath the timbers
beside a broken heart
Author’s Note: Yes, I know, but there have
been times when I stumble upon old photos, and
wonder what I thought when standing there.
tornadoday 
eloquently written, with feeling vivid and image very alive. I loved it. Love, Linda
Thank you, Linda. When I chanced upon the photo, I was back there again. I’m so glad you like this. ~ Love you, Me
We all have had those moments
And some are sad as others grand
Most are shared by those who wait
Standing hand in hand
As shadows pass and leave the gate
Like waves upon the sand
xo
Paul
True. I think any moment that causes us to feel or reflect is a good one. Even better if they change the way we perceive our own mortality. Thank you, Paul. ~ My love to you, Bobbie
The truth of it is, we may not know what we were thinking at a given moment such as this–it is afterwards, when the numbness and the shock wear off that we truly think of these things–and the now stilled voice we are remembering, their loved ones, the impact on lives. Lovely words. We’ve all thought about these, at one time or another. I know I have. Love you and your beautiful insights. xoxo
Oh, Jeannie. Thank you for the reminder. I think you’re right. At the moment, we’re just doing whatever we need to do to take another step. Actually, this was a day when I was with my father walking through woods of his childhood to places he knew were there ~ words to stone ~ ancestors moved on. As he gets older, a discussion about wallpaper that his mother made from newspaper is enough to bring tears (to both of us). Thank you… So much love, Bobbie
Another special day that you will recall down the road. You and he are making tomorrow’s memories and now, whatever befalls, you will remember the newspaper wallpaper and a walk in the woods. I love those special moments, even if they do bring a tear. xoxox
Beautiful photograph Bobbie and heartfelt words..a riuch tapestry that you weave my lovely, thank you…much love to you xxx
Thank you, Jane……. Your heart knows me well. ~ Love, Bobbie