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becoming, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, faith, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, messages, nature, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, restless, signs, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom
in the wake
of a dream
a tear to my face
so quietly
tenderness come
spoke without speaking
knew what was known
and wrapped was my faith
in once more
alone
pressed
as the fairest
of bloom to the page
perfumed reminder of us
what will it matter
when time passes on
the imprint of moments
we stood
in this place
and watched as the sun
burned a hole –
coddled by bourbon
and lace
wisdom has found
a place on my pillow
while knowledge sleeps
out on the porch
makes not a peep
as eternity falls –
swept as the last
perfect star to be saved
e’er will I wonder
of distance not far
and places forgiven
as witness
to change
hands barely touching
remember it all
how I envy
their innocent streams
as it was written
so are we now
reach out and gather
these words to resound
in the coming and going
in seed yet to bud
gardens denied
disbelief
traces revealed
in the living undone
breath even now has a way
of deciding the places
my soul shall retain
as silver makes haste
– time
disappears
as one
with the universe
sung by its tune
laid side by side for a while
choices defending
the feel of the road
as somewhere
they wait for me now
a winter white stag
keeps a bride
on the meadow
and sometimes
he finds her in dreams
they speak not of hours
or measure of more –
and waste not a tear
for goodbyes
tornadoday 
Reblogged this on Simon Sundaraj-Keun.
Bobbie; you’re of the very few who connect their thoughts not with conjunctions but with spirits of diverse times… certainly ..
Much love always
O, Mira……….I’m so very glad you liked this. I wondered about it. Literally, it was written at four different times during the night before last. In the dark, I scribbled to a paper and though disjointed, it felt right that they be together. ~ Love you, B
The rhythm was so very special as i read the poem…like an ‘Ode’, Mira sensed it, but then she always goes deep into the heart and the spiritual beauty of words. Her mind always dances like yours also does. We move to spiritual melodies and memories that frame them…finding a deepend desire to inspire with the elegant songs whose words we danced with heartily through the hours of the night!