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becoming, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, spirit, strength, truth, understanding
how much have I
this world to cleave –
a passing glance
or verse
some wayward call
I’m coming home –
a place
I’m known
for leaving
a silver sky
of fated blush –
and thorns
I’ve learned to love
pages writ
and I for one
returned
finding now
the same as then –
a forest blooming rare
– a way
where only I
the story knows
shall make again
a sense in all
with reasons why I go –
lights where
some are burning
to fill the path
below
. . .
tornadoday 
“how much have I
this world to cleave –
a passing glance
or verse
some wayward call
I’m coming home –
a place
I’m known
for leaving”
❤ ❤ gorgeous.
❤
Sometimes we all return to places or things, not understanding the why, and find there things of wonder that we overlooked when we passed there before. … xo
A sweet reminder of why it is we came, knowing that all we have loved remains – tethered to our soul. ❤
“To fill the path below” — I just love these words, Bobbie, they close the poem like an amen at the end of a beautiful prayer. xx
O yes, Angela. 😊 It is the sigh which holds a memory, a whispered amen, a yes without need for asking. I’m not surprised you understand. I love you.
The first stanza ❤️❤️❤️ gorgeous, Bobbie ☺️
Thank you, Julia. I can never quite understand how WP decides that things are spam, when they are things I hold so near to my heart. I found you there………. Always, my love.
Oh the end … Amen indeed, Angela put a word to the feeling so well.
to fill the path below…your words, a song heard in my heart. ❤ Xxx
…….always, Jane………..always ❤
Swept away by the beauty of your poem! Such a delight to embrace and read!
❤