Tags
becoming, bliss, connection, death, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowing, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, restless, seasons, southern, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wonder
were memories
becoming this –
pieces not for barter
shall keep to nest
the coldest night we’ve known
guarded not for staying –
we kept inside too long
ancient fires to burn away
ashes from the stone
songbirds weep
for something
lost upon the winds –
music plays
tho I can’t hear a thing
wasted now the wanting –
for all I should have said
– the chill is come
to wrap around
my spring
. . .
tornadoday 
Bobbie, this is so poignantly beautiful. And once again, in this poem, I can softly hear your voice. Love, Dee
Thank you, Dee……. While some might not understand that comment, I do, for I hear your voice in everything you write. There I know your soul and it is light. ~ Ever, Bobbie