Tags
becoming, conscious consciousness, dreams, faith, grace, life, love, nature, poetry, spirit, spirituality, still, understanding, unfurling, woman, wonder
bend these tired graces
to the measure
of your hand
the lengths to go –
miles before your dream
stay
where holy keeps you
wrapped in paper clouds
sealed within the words
I love you said
into the shifting silence
as chill
beneath the pines
light beyond the crest
where woods erase
the present
from the always –
the almost from the dead
I lay my head
and listen you
again
. . .
Listen again… and again… and again. Always, we can listen. Beautiful, Bobbie.
Yes, and always, we should count among our blessings to hear. ~ Love you, dear Angela. ~ Bobbie
“Woods erase the present from the always”. Perhaps it is those woods that beckon us to forever, where the dreams are. So beautifully penned, Bobbie. Love, Dee
I’ve always felt woods were immortal……..standing within an almost silence (and yet, not quite)….. They are a window on eternity…….a truth rarely spoken. Thank you so much, Dee. ~ Ever love, Bobbie
Oh, this is lovely.
Perfect for the day it was posted on 🙂
David
Thank you so, David. I have missed you. ~ Love, Bobbie
One finds themselves charmed by the alluring beauty of your words! They bring with them a special essence which reminds one of Springs sweet new freshness that we hope will soon arrive. For your poems inspire and nourish the love that lives within everyone your words touch! So very beautiful!