Tags
becoming, breath, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, faith, grace, knowledge, life, love, passion, poetry, reason, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wisdom, wonder
what of days
are poems penned
clinging to me now
at the edge of dreams
a somewhere unknown
is sweeter for lives
left scattered
between
the first of beginning
as the last one
to leave
tho separate
our living
as ink unto page
knowing another
would carry us still
unaware of our passing
from day into light
as heart into
blossom –
breath into seed
fell from an orchard
which bloomed
in the dark
where hands waited softly
to be empty
again
. . .
tornadoday 
I smile ever radiantly when i embrace your jewels…and the smile always lasts!
as I smile when I find myself lucky enough to have drawn your comments……… ❤
Raising cathedrals of mystical unions in praise of neverending, sleepless tenderness of love and yearn.
of reach and follow……….the unspoken trail that is come to me……….
… 😀
Reblogged this on SalvaVenia and commented:
Raising cathedrals of mystical unions in praise of neverending, sleepless tenderness of love and yearn.
Compelling and soull touching.
❤
Like it a lot, Bobbie, but there seems a hint of sadness in the background of it. ~xo~
Me
Ahhh………..I believe what the song says………love makes sweet and sad the same………for surely there are things love forgot to tell us.
All interwoven…I love your words. I love you. ❤
As I love you, dear Jane…… The weaving never ends………… ❤
The depth of each line moves me to tears. Beautiful. Enchanting.
O, Millie. Thank you. I am attempting (slowly) to recover myself to the present………responding where surely my heart has already been. I love you.