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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Category Archives: Storytelling

bound to story –

04 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

a jealous moon, a name upon my lips, acceptance, all I know, and still, becoming me, life, love, seeing in the dark, wisdom

when from our dreams
wisdom comes
life to empty shelves
a blessing to the seeker
with want
for something else

leather cords
and parchment sleeves
are poor disguise for truth
when given place –
a willing page or two

purpose bound to story
has suffered long the pen
as lifetimes passed
with will to wake
again

who for this
was meaning sought
line by precious line
what sweet desire
awaited us
this time

. . .

breath before rising ~

18 Monday Jan 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

grace, lessons, life, love, memory, nature, seasons, soul speak, time

in the swell of the tide
a breath before rising –
in the roll of the sands
neath the shore
I’ve noticed the rivers
run deeper than blood –
and the trees
taller still than before

I’ve reckoned the sun
how she leans to the right
when no one is watching
but me
how she warms to my skin
as home she remembers –
a lantern set high
on the sea

sometimes morning
awakens the night –
with whispers of promise undone
prickled by weeds
berries and blossom –
fireflies skimming
the pond

bitterly sweet
scattered transgressions –
as who for another
moment would trade
dust from a memory
of life as we knew –
to wait for a night
in the shade

. . .

to my soul ~

13 Wednesday Jan 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

friends, grace, knowing, life, love, memory, morning, seeing in the dark, stars, time, truth, universe, wisdom

It’s true that I have nearly 175 items in my WordPress draft folder, and on days when I need to, those provide a comfort or a kick-start to other words. I considered them first thing today, while I searched for the warmest socks in an over-stuffed basket. But when I got to my desk, I found something else, and there…..other words that needed no push in becoming.

I’m convinced that it’s not indigestion or a storm or anything quite so mundane that wakes me in the night. When it happens, I roll over, look at the clock and typically go right back to sleep. But not without smiling at the reassurance that I take in this simple (though some might call infuriating) occurrence.

While there are vast numbers of people who understand the complexity (and simplicity) of the universe, few put absolute faith in the fact that it is constantly working for us (almost like a personal assistant type of universe). That’s my ‘belief’ – that the universe is up all night trying to figure out just what I need and when I need it in order to make sure that I get it.

So, when I wake up at 4:08 and can’t be sure why, I am confident that someone somewhere has spoken my name. It’s also why sometimes at 2:03 a.m., I wake and speak other names. Yeah, I know you’re shaking your head (or some of you are). And that’s well enough, but you’re surely missing out on an amazing part of this life (your life).

But back to today. What you know so far involves socks and waking up at 4:08 a.m. Not too exciting even to a boring story.

But once I arrived at my desk, I had a message through messenger from a dear friend, who, in the midst of his two o’clock run from Houston to Dallas, was stopping for breakfast at some ‘hole in the wall’ diner just outside of Austin. And over eggs and coffee, he thought of me and wondered what my day held in store. His note came in at 4:12 a.m.

Think what you want. That crazy girl in Tennessee couldn’t possibly be onto something. But be advised that the crazy girl in Tennessee is definitely onto something, and likely has more help with life before she opens her eyes than you get all day from your not so ‘weebie-weebie’ sources.

In the meantime, my expectations for the day ahead just shot up, and I smile now, grateful for the universe, for Hank, and for places that serve hot coffee and fresh eggs when needed most. Somehow, even in the midst of crazy, the universe remembers what we prayed for and what we need most (even when we don’t realize how strong the need).

The universe remembers us home.

had I laid awake
a moment more –
to wish upon a star
called his name
aloud into the dark
gathered soft as morning
as light across
my room
surrendered to remembrance
these pieces of a dream
where I am still made humble
by the moon

had I drifted
as nightbirds
sang of trees so far away
of lifetimes
I have no excuse to know
to waltz
along the shoreline
in strands of blue and gold
to wake with sand
pressed sweetly
to my soul

. . .

fell together ~

26 Thursday Nov 2020

Posted by tornadoday in perfect country song, Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling, verse

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

breath, fate, history, let me, morning, remembering, seasons, stars, story, time, truth

we fell together
one night in march
when winds still warned
of an aching heart
you went home
and I pretending
of another day
we’d fall again

last night I slept
in a field of sand –
eighteen miles
of forgotten land
married you somewhere
in between
our first goodbye
and a place of dreams

you made plans
of a life beyond
the getting over –
the getting on
I sewed stars
from last night’s sleep
never worried long
for one to keep
faceless names
and ageless babies –
years between
the time we made
beneath the dark
of winter sky
another day
one more goodbye

one more hello
and a field remembers
seeds put down
one late September
for every dawn
there’s another sun
never meant to cheat
the road we’re on

faceless names
and ageless babies –
years between
the time we made
you make breakfast
and I’ll sleep in –
wrapped in stories
we fall again

. . .

evermore to spend ~

04 Wednesday Nov 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

beginnings, birth, death, destiny, life, love, memory, seasons, spirit home, story, time, truth

longing
paints a picture
with colors still I bleed
crimson red raspberry
melon sweet
harbingers
of stories rent
lessons yet to learn
lives are reconstructed
over tea

promise
I was sworn to keep
with words
forgotten now
whispers of a truth
I put away
are breathed anew each morning
and folded into rhyme –
evermore to spend
another day

moments
gather silent
in dust beneath my bed
circles to the table
souvenirs
of seasons
unremembered
before I knew your name –
lives I traded
just to find you here

. . .

how could I have known –

25 Sunday Oct 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

a jealous moon, another life, distance, divine truth, forgotten path, love, memory, nature, time

the rain
remembers everything
the chill –
the warmth
the sun
she dances on my window
late at night
playing songs
forgotten me –
how could I have known
she shares with me
the memory
of winter’s sweet delight

buckets full
as creeks run o’er –
the river has no bounds
but for home
a lover seeks the sea
banks are lost
beneath the push
of pines against the waves
babies float
as ancients watch
for me

pure the smell
of mystery –
when flushed from neath
the clouds –
longing carved
to every standing stone
music rises
from the pound
of needles to the dirt
sins are lost
this wanting to atone

. . .

the long way back ~

14 Monday Sep 2020

Posted by tornadoday in home, Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

another life, breath, find me home, hands, journey, life, light, love, memory, mountains, nature, reasons, stars, truth, walk me home

in another place
I was –
crushed beneath the shadows
bowing down my head
chasing truths
do you remember
how it was –
the giving in to silence
as the echo of ten thousand
tired boots
a night succumb
to whispers –
a morning without shame
lights beyond the highway
burning sand
do you remember
was I with you
when the mountains
fell around
as waters rushed
to fill an empty land
I know you now
as I knew you then
another life
with nothing changed
this sweet goodnight
bathed in light
is reason
why we came

. . .

clementine and ash –

04 Friday Sep 2020

Posted by tornadoday in home, Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

carry me sweetly, country, easy, grace, home, life, love, nature, simple

there’s a cloud
above the meadow
where ancient starlings spin
twelve across
as one
their feathers glide
slicing through my morning
a reflection of the sun
as cedars press around
on every side

clementine and ash
are twisted by the barn
a piece of lace
left over from the spring
crickets come alive
for a pleasure
born of shade
and I still lie awake
to hear them sing

. . .

not that far ~

24 Monday Aug 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

allowance, conversation, home, life, love, memory, spirit, story, trust, truth

she said
I can’t get back there
without a map
without a plan –
I need to hear a promise
now and then

he said
the only thing I own
is the memory of more
where empty arms
wait for you
again

she said
it sounds so simple
but where am I to start
with permission just this once
for letting go

he said
I wish I had the words
I’d tell you how I feel –
there’s nothing here
but everything
you know

she said
is love forsaken –
with want for a guarantees
when all I need from you
is all you are

he said
I’ll make it easy –
and wait out on the porch
from there into my heart
is not that far

. . .

Author’s Note: Years ago, I co-wrote a piece “Conversation”. I believe
it might have won a ribbon or two. But more than that, it made me realize
the “whole other world’ that exists within two. ❤

small –

07 Friday Aug 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

a time for telling, abundance, blessings, circle of life, closer to home, divine truth, family, love

As I was looking for something else today, I happened upon this photo….and the quote, “life isn’t a station to arrive at, but a means by which we travel” came to mind.

Though it surely seemed like many miles from granny and grampa’s house to the store, it wasn’t at all. Let us forever remember the little things as big….life as way more than we expected. The picture – little steve, sis, and hannah making the trek back to the store from granny’s…..remembering for me a path they never realized was so blessed. ❤

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Blog at WordPress.com.

Poetic Thoughts

Benjamin Grossman

Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic

Discover WordPress

A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

Walt's Writings

Poetry about Life, Love, Music by Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet

Silent Fingers

~ journey of a rose scented ink ~

houseofheartweb.wordpress.com/

ithoughtyouwerejoking.wordpress.com/

Exploring the epiphany

Seasonings

Just a little poetry...

Revelation

MyWorldsInWords

View my worlds

yelena's poetry

Now & Then

The fears of a girl, the heart of a woman, and everything inbetween...

Blonde in Flares

Flared and prepared.

Ziyaad poet

Just a cup of poetry and cookies

The Reluctant Poet

A Discovery of Enlightening Insights, Information, Humor, Writings and Musings

Dr. Eric Perry’s Blog

Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

Broken roads of Destiny

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” — Maya Angelou

grandfathersky

Thoughts and feelings made into words about the world and times in which we live ...

Randomreasoning

Making a connection when everything is connected

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