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beauty, bliss, connection, death, destiny, faith, fearless, flaws, grace, gravel roads, home, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, resurrection, sacred intimacy, scars, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wonder
there’s a shadow
to my collar –
where once a scar was new
and late one night
I shared my ache
with you
as a whisper
down the mountain –
a twine of glories flame
like the mist above the river
bears my name
not for verse
am I returning –
not for one more curs’ed rhyme
but for arms
around me folded –
I’m inclined
to remember
every promise –
the scent of winter hay
love
long after life
is swept away
shall I wait
your last tomorrow –
for a prayer before I go
into realms
where hearts are learning
all I know
. . .
Ah….., ’tis a beautiful thing, isn’t it now? For sure, and wouldn’t he be admirin’ it.
“love
long after life
is swept away”
And wouldn’t that be the truth of it. It lasts forever in yer soul, doesn’t it now? …….xo
Himself
It does indeed – perhaps the thing that keeps the soul eternal………
No doubt we always write on paper things belonging to the earth, figures, and other facts. But things pertaining to the spiritual order of things, to the divine law (so to say), are of much greater importance. The notebook is yet not made for them, and it is in the memory where such glories they must be treasured …
How true, dear Salva. I read something today by a dear friend who commented that she had at one time collected figurines, pottery, notions, tickets…….photographs. Now, she collects memories. You are so right. If there is paper, it is surely made of soul.
She might become a very wise woman, then.
I entered a door I have often visited myself with this poem. Haunting.
Dave, I totally understand your comment as I have felt the same at times. You bless me with your being. Thank you.
your poems are excellent, thanks for sharing, I’m certainly inspired !!