Tags
becoming, breath, connection, destiny, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, home, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, postmark, relationship, sometimes you, southern, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wonder
when morning wakes
I dare my soul
to speak aloud of places
– of somewhere
I been going for a while
on roads
no one would notice me
as barely getting by –
footprints melt the same
without the snow
without the only map I have
for leaving –
I’ve forgotten
the way we fit
when everything made sense
except for how
the roses grew
from april thru december
with silver horns
and petals known
to stain
the window seal
signs
I never thought to read
foretold another future
moths are busy
knitting
winter sheets –
keep my sleep from knowing
where you’ve gone
. . .
Sleep is also called the little death.
BTW, I took the liberty to include your blog into my blogroll; hope you don’t mind. 🙂
I don’t mind at all, dear Salva. In fact, I am honored………. ❤ Thank you.
Phew … 😀
Bobbie, “on roads no one would notice me as barely getting by-“. This is the watercourse way to a long, noble and honorable life. One I admire. Thanks for the wonderful message…bob
O, Bob….. I’ve come to understand that the secret to happiness is to be content with little. My father could have almost anything he wants, but he is content to sit on the porch, holding my mother’s hand, watching the birds at the feeder. By all standards that matter, he is rich! Sometimes when I leave work, I take the long way home. Tis there, I almost always find heaven. ❤
Beautiful and awe-stricken piece. You are pure wisdom. Thank you.
Thank you, dear Millie. You are far too kind. One of my favorite quotes – ‘the wise are only wise because they love’……… ❤
You are pure love and light.
❤
look at you….giving away hearts like they were candy ❤ I love that about you!
It’s all about love and your poetry always moves me, sometimes beyond words. Xx ❤
Have been on many roads
Seen many sights and more
But always paths and roads
Lead back here to this door…
This poem inspired a lot of thinking, darlin’ girl. You have a way of doing that.
~xo~
Me
Thank you, Paul. One of my favorite songs is “This Old Porch”….. The line that keeps me, ‘This old porch is just a long time of waiting and forgetting – remembering the coming back and not crying about the leaving’. Always, the road leads to home. ❤