sunday after all ~

26 Friday Mar 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

Tags

a light on the porch, carry me home, forgotten path, journey, life, love, memory, time

the path is worn
as if o’er time –
the way might be erased
tho flowers bloom each Sunday
after all
midnight yearns
and I have learned –
tis not for me to squander
the hope for one more
morning –
wherever promise falls

each time
I think I might be gone
I find the door ajar –
locks once held the windows
rusted now
lights I thought would never burn
stream a golden pasture
echoes ring
remember me –
should e’er your heart
allow

. . .

enough ~

05 Friday Feb 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

a light on the porch, all I know, emotional intelligence, eternal life, grace, love, simple wantings, truth

enough
to make me teary –
these solitary lines
where names fall sweet
before the hurting starts
enough
I’ve begged
forget me –
let the souvenirs
be burned
and yet I know
I can’t reclaim my heart

tis crushed
into the circles
where’re your fingers touch
and ground into the webs
around your eyes
inked into a memory
of ten thousand yesterdays
golden as our last
the first sunrise

smoke rings
mark an evening red
with the scent
of winter hay
I locked the gate
but pray you took your key
folded with a promise
and tucked inside your shirt
familiar as the path
come back to me

. . .

still –

31 Sunday Jan 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

a jealous moon, a light on the porch, do you remember, life, love, seasons, truth

of the ways I came
and here before –
you waited my arrival
kept the candle lit
beyond the cursing sun
wishing now
a welcome home
without the need for blaming
without the want to understand
the reason I was gone

no want for tears
we gave them all
and kicked the boards
for crying –
swore to never love
if love were true
passed a night (or more than one)
without a word between us –
spent the chill of winter
wide awake
and back to back

I wondered
as to moments –
longest time
til I would go –
how much of this
was more than fate –
to prove it wasn’t easy
years from love we loved
before the first
we came too late

straight back chairs
empty lockets –
swore the stars to secret
I left a crumpled note
beneath the bed
planted corn between the
vines –
and waited yellow roses
marked the ways
you knew me
one by lonely one

. . .

met with rhyme –

11 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

a light on the porch, all I know of living, family, give it up, life. rememberance, lifetimes, longing, love, poet, returning home

for every time
forgotten you
the road between
begun
and counted for my worries
every mile
for cares
I thought it mattered
now it seems I’ve lost my way
returning your
remembrance
as a smile

a verse or two
maybe three or four
as meter met
with rhyme
stories we were telling
on the way
sits the same
an unlined page
fevered fight with time
how few the poet knows
have less to say

places still
my soul recalls
the miracle of pen
as hush before a poem
we appear
crowded vowels rewritten
backward to my hands
words are given voice
tho none can hear

. . .

O, mary….

19 Saturday Jan 2019

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

a light on the porch, a place for us, all I know of living, always we begin, loss, love, lover, mary oliver, pieces of me, poetry, teacher

She lived well. She loved well. And in the wake of her living, words remain 💚

washed from the sun ~

11 Monday Jun 2018

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

a light on the porch, assurance, blessings, gifts, home, life, love, prayer, returning, sometimes, spirit, starting again, truth

letmestay

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

. . .