Tags
becoming, breath, cherokee, connection, death, destiny, fearless, grace, kentucky, life, love, old maps, passion, reason, restless, spirit, spirituality, strength, understanding, wandering, wisdom
was a while
before the setting
remembered by the moon
as flame the night ablaze
within the chill –
chatter of a crooked porch
swayed beneath the tin
where pieces of eternity –
were moments
standing still
bury me
I heard them say
I wonder did they know
the time would soon be coming
to obey
promise never meant to keep
passions here for long
sealed within the fluttering
of words we couldn’t say
names the same
as numbers
dates not far between
the starting out for places
never known
letters meant for someone else
are chiseled to the bark
fields of autumn dancers –
wave me home
silence I’ve committed
every thought to memory –
delight me now
the blossom of the soul
brush of ancient laurels
weaved into a crown
bury me –
the coming back
I won’t have far to go
. . .
tornadoday 
I can hear the quiet…
I barely dare whisper!
e
….but I can hear you breathing, Eric. 😀 Thank you so much. ~ Love ever, Bobbie
The image and words weave a hauntingly beautiful post! There is a deep fullness of soul that is shared and wrapped around past memories whose embrace still lingers, whether good or bad, yet their blessing will always insure they are never forgotten even when we walk the last road back home to find the peace that was, and still will be! I loved the message within your words! Another perfect jewel Bobbie!
Thank you, Wendell. Always your comments leave me with a sense of calm, for I know that you have found the truth between the lines. I am indeed blessed by your love and your friendship. Thank you. ~ Always love, Bobbie
heavy with it’s sense of time.
O, Seb……..thank you. I just happened to check out my spam folder (which catches more flies than honey some days)…..and there you were. To be honest, I almost didn’t recognize you with the hat. I like it! Thank you…. ~ Much love, me
Pieces of eternity are indeed moments standing still. I like that. Love, Dee
Indeed…..in grains of sand, we see the golden streets……. Thanks, Dee. Love you ~ Bobbie