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a light on the porch, assurance, blessings, gifts, home, life, love, prayer, returning, sometimes, spirit, starting again, truth
the daylight
grows dimmer
with every october
tho the nightbirds sing louder
this spring
a reminder of counting
the miles to forever
broken old crosses –
lacey white wings
it seems but a moment
backward forgiving
to a place just the same –
starting again
hands held aloft
pleading with heaven
for one more tomorrow –
another amen
a quiet surrender
of midnight
and morning –
is washed from the sun
by a river of tears
recalled at the end
as a time ne’er forsaken –
when love glowed the path
of our way
back to here
. . .
tornadoday 
“.. broken old crosses.
lacy white wings..” — as always, with just two simple lines you pierced the mind and a bit of the heart too.. The rest of the poem just poured in leaving no space for words.
Bobbie, after all these years your poetry just speaks to the inner self. And, oh yes. Am back after a lifetime *smiles*
xx
I have to agree … you take us to the back roads, the ones were memory never fades.
Thank you. In my memory, I have wrapped bits of my life in paper, separate from the life I live. The past cannot free me, nor can it cause me to drown. And yet what is stored in paper belongs to me still – each piece a part of me – the hummingbirds, the locked doors, the way the sun shimmers off of silence. ❤
Makes for good meditation. Does past define us or is it stepping stones…
….I don’t think it defines us, but it can no more be removed from us than our first breath…… ❤
Yes, it shouldn’t define us, yet many (sadly) would argue it does … it no more defines us than the wind defines El Capitan at Yosemite…
I might argue that those are the very same who need something or someone to blame for their choices…… Some of the greatest wonders began with ruin….
….welcome home, my friend………. I am grateful that you found my path amid the weeds. Love you deeply……….. ❤
Need I say more.. Amidst weeds are paths scented of rare blooms. A wayfarer could never forget a warm, safe, familiar sojourn, my friend.
Love to you in similar depths, Bobbie. So wonderful to see you weaving these timeless beauties! ♥️