Tags
age, bliss, faith, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, postmark, quiet, reason, sacred intimacy, seasons, silence, southern, spirit, star crossed, strength, truth, understanding, value
of paths
I’ll not remember this
how far
beyond your arms
beyond the safe –
somewhere
still we are
will years
become
the wearing down
into eternity –
a late night
in the kitchen
silently
rehearsed
again
the coming back
forgotten now to go
love is still
– I wonder
how I know
. . .
tornadoday 
Very lovely
Thank you, my sweet precious Mary………… Your heart knows my own. ~ Bobbie
Love stands still, as in a still life painting, transcendent of time and distance. This is beautiful, Bobbie. Love, Dee
Yes, Dee……….. Love never changes. Time may wash away memories or displace circumstances, but love (true love) remains – long after we’ve gone – long past the remembrance of our names. Thank you, Dee. May love swirl soft upon your pillow. ~ Bobbie
Beautiful, Bobbie. Your poetry becomes images in instants.
Thank you, Nessa. It’s such a wonderful thing to have you back……to have you home. ~ Love, Bobbie
Once you know, you just know…
~xo~ Me
indeed………and you can’t ever ‘unknow’…… 🙂
….because you know Home when even blindfolded you always find the way to yet keeps on forgetting the way from…
Hugs
I think that’s the truth of love………..we can never forget the way……..once we know, we cannot unknow……… the map is written to our soul…….. Thank you, Mira……… ~ Always my love, Bobbie
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.