Tags
breath, connection, conscious consciousness, dreams, faith, familiar unfamiliar, fearless, grace, gravel roads, home, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, spirituality, undefined wilderness, understanding, value, wandering, wisdom
end of day, end of time
both have now arrived
we must believe
love will outlast us
somehow, mysteriously
cast beyond what we have always
understood, in the ethereal
spheres, in the chaos
of a million heartbeats
rhyming here and now
with a splash of eternity’s wish
and in the single moment
everything stops to change
irrevocably, will you stifle a tear
as my hand grows cold
and my fears fade into
your solitude?
we cannot speculate
about dreams between the sun and moon
starlight’s secrets or the depths
of a single human soul
life is a tiny frozen fragment of an iceberg
what remains invisible coerces our faith
into a destiny called beyond
we hear our heartbeat articulate
its incessant pumping red emotion
recalling the flush of today’s triumph
or yesterday’s merciless failure
we puff our lungs with stale air, and mask
a fleeting wish for a hermit’s habitation
a place where dreams stimulate us,
and spin desire into a worldly orbit
like a crazy laughing merry-go-round —
will we never learn to calculate
the distance between two words of love?
Beautiful poem and picture.
Your kindness is reason enough for my gratitude. Thank you so much. ~ Love, Bobbie
Bobbie your blog is amazing!
thank you………. 🙂
“will we never learn to calculate
the distance between two words of love?”
If you are attentive to the lessons life teaches us, you will know…, if you permit yourself to be distracted, you never will. Far too many are distracted these days, but never you. ~xo~
Me
….as I’ve thought before, there is a silence between words that only the poet can hear…….. Thank you, dear sweet Paul. ~ Love, Bobbie
I can’t pick out my favourite lines. There is such a richness in your words, Bobbie, each one speaks of a deep knowing and a wonder-filled, intuitive, beautiful soul: its writer.
I’ve often wondered where words come from (and yet they do), smelling faintly of burning leaves…..and leaving their silence on my bones. Thank you, dearest Angela. ~ Love ever, Bobbie
Distraction builds distance, love makes all timeless…your words are the bridge Bobbie. Xxx
🙂 love – the only truth. Thank you, my dear Jane. ~ xo