dogwood dreams ~

05 Friday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

Tags

becoming, blooms, connection, destiny, dreams, faith, grace, life, living, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, reason, southern, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom, wonder

lavender tears
of silent surrender
– pewter restored
to a moment divine
last time I held you –
last time a whisper
in blushes of dogwood
blossomed
to skin

secrets
told somewhere
others are saying –
how long the night
protecting the dawn –
recalled to the memory
another undoing –
led us to paths
were to share
let us go

powder magnolia
and split fences falling
tangled our words
into something forgot
the reasons
for staying –
and who would remember
the scent of forever
was dogwood
to bloom

. . .

reaching ~

05 Friday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, nature, passion, reason, restless, spirit, spirituality, star crossed, strength, travel, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

a gentle boy
tho no one knew
the path he must have made
wondered more than I
to why he came
with silver minnow leeches –
carved against a rock
slipped into the places
I remain

somewhere springs
an ancient tide
of endless crystal beaches
last I heard
the earth was come
around
to see your way
would understand
words I never said-
footprints glowing red
in sheets of clay

bide your time
take of mine
the reasons we remember
vine was strung from evergreen
as once I loved you
more –
penning notes
forever wrote –
to slips of oak and willow
poems came to rhyme
against the day

traded me the sunrise –
forgiven
us the night –
one more story
whispers us away

. . .

shadows ~

04 Thursday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, cherokee, connection, destiny, environment, faith, fearless, forgiveness, global warming, God, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, restless, self, spirit, spirituality, strength, understanding, value, wandering

beyond the realms
of all we know
another waits
in senses
forever bloomed
immortal breath of fire

the steady beat –
with skies to walk
and naught
a thought to tarry
reserving us
reminders to become

of markers left
and letters carved
into a place
we passed –
what joy to find we’ve wandered
close to home

another day
this way resolved
to sit a while
in slumber
forsaken to the night
– the weary soul

uncharted there
from porch to post
burning stars so bright
ships are tracing
slivers of the moon

backward to
the wishing well
where there you are
the same –
a light within the current
– sacred stone

Author’s Note: Inspired (in part) by the following passage from
Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver…

“As long as we won’t commit to knowing everything, the presumption
is we know nothing… he did not claim that God
moves in mysterious ways. Instead he seemed to believe,
as she did, though they never could have discussed it,
that everything else is in motion while God
does not move at all. God sits still, perfectly at rest,
the silver dollar at the bottom
of the well, the question.”

dragon song ~

03 Wednesday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, death, faith, fearless, grace, life, living, love, nature, passion, reason, restless, seasons, spirit, spirituality, strength, time, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wisdom

the whispers
are failing
the long summer grass
as legions are marched
to the ground –

sung to the dragons
as twilight to burn
webs were just reaching beyond
this fluid embrace
of long nights alone
and blankets pulled over
a snowy white
shroud –

ribboned cocoon
of silken burlesque
is matched
by a cape of the very
same shade
and spun into dreams
never knew we were here
and kept as a memory
of winter
and lace

. . .

distant drums ~

03 Wednesday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Haiku, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, cherokee, connection, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, life, living, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, reason, seeing in the dark, spirit, spirituality, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

distant drums beat sweet
echoes of woods never walked
eyes to strain the night

stories writ to skin
dreams to recall our longing
whisperings we hushed

a heart coos softly
of happiness retreating
the dove cannot change

a dawn breaks clearly
the ghost of feathered knowing
destiny becomes

ancient smoke rises
wonders defy our vision
awaken new eyes

the day will become
when fire will burn too deeply
our spirits to mourn

. . .

more than this ~

02 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, cherokee, connection, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, nature, old maps, passion, relationship, restless, seeing in the dark, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom, wonder

eighteen
not quite ready
for dreams to understand
books with pages turned
as words unbound
poured into the seeking
of mystery
returned –

between the suns
eyes were closed
as life begun

knew it well
another place
as real
made more than this
remembered
resurrected me again
scribbled as a page
of rightful circumstance
living lost –
would ever real
make sense

or daisies bloom
to die
against the moon

smoke rings
rising somewhere –
names to taunt
my tongue
are missed of times
whene’er my pillow warns
of mornings spread
to fingers –
curs’ed light
to find me here

counting rings
and humming –
songs no one can hear

. . .

the rhythm of remember ~

01 Monday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, verse

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, connection, destiny, family, fearless, forgiveness, front porch, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, restless, southern, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, value, wisdom

in the quietly unfolding
vanilla satin wings –
where shutters made of music
bang the porch
leaning in (as leaning does)
just before the fall
of breath into beginning
us again

in the rhythm of remember
a poem stirs awake –
counting now the verses
(one by one)
measured by the silent steps
from one end to the other
lives restored
as lanterns barely burned

forever stops to witness
graces undeclared
patches sewn together
(in the dark)
leaving spared another day
for smiles without the taking
was here we learned
to love –
here we stay

. . .

come on rain ~

27 Wednesday Mar 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

beauty, becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, life, living, love, memory, nature, passion, poetry, reason, restless, spirit, spirituality, strength, understanding, wonder

of oceans
might you tell me
of shores I never found
holding there –
your last goodbye
to know

messages untangled
as notes
forgot to send
strains the moonlight
leaving
sands below

held against
your mercies
pardoned by your grace
prayed for some
where’er your tears
might fall

purged
of ancient rivers
rushing toward the sea
bathed in pools
of jasper –
winter squall

of timbers
other paths were crossed
with stories of regret
– passed along
as ships
without a sail

merchant chafed
as some suspect –
before the turning home
winds of fate
were destined
to prevail

the shallow dish
of wading pool –
glimmers bright your blue –
came the hottest august
to your kiss

memories reflecting
on a sweeter
somewhere now –
swords are melting
cool against
your mist

. .

let me ~

26 Tuesday Mar 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, death, destiny, fearless, grace, home, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom

it seems of time
I have no say
of where and when
the leaving
of souls held dear
I wish I’d held
a moment more
to grieve

these gifts of life –
of laughter merged
to make of me
a locket –
of grapes
the same as winter wheat
frosted by the wind

where am I
and how to say
of all the things worth keeping
love survives
the harshest storms –
blossoms yet
as seed

down the years
as one made more –
by touch with me
to tarry –
let me love
or let me sleep
beyond this futile dream

carry me
e’er splinters press
a crush of silver locust –
born to curse
the coming back
– the stinging of the blade

. . .

perennial ~

25 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, restless, self, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

Been gone awhile,
when fate was come –
tho wasn’t much
for turning home.

Dashed every (starless) dream
to the jagged edge of longing,
spent more than most.
Was love
took everything.

How did you find me –
with sense
I’ve long forgotten.
A name restored from silence,
rolls as thunder
down the pines.

Was there alone,
save for time (my one companion).
And put away my pages,
lest my sin some stranger find.

Life was waiting
his comfort now to come,
and counted me as blessings –
rocked to sleep,
(our love) awake in dreams.
Back against the morning,
eyes on the horizon –
no thunderbird to guide me,
nor evermore
to save.

Weeds and cocklebur –
a parakeet’s abandon,
grew between the slats
gone to seed (so long ago).
Sorrows met with joy –
both gathered there together.
Am I different
than remembered –
every story (still) I know.

Told when harvest moons
(are made much colder)
taken hold some other place
(another night so dear).
Some promise made (to might have been)
rouses me from slumber.
A roof that needs replacing –
keeps me ever (wanting, here).

Your kiss to steal –
your welcome home.
Were you to dream of me,
willed me back
(always I feel) the same.

Seven lives
and sixteen rivers –
forsaking every pleasure,
forgetting every loss
(and who’s to blame).

As seasons passed
between (the times) to hold –
Was our
forever moment –
never lessened (never old).

. . .