wings of november ~

03 Friday May 2013

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, fearless, forgiveness, grace, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, postmark, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder, writing

a mandolin
movement
an exotic rush of wind
the colors of rain pooling
your eyes
are everything – still

forever
sometimes –
the music in our silence
turns my soul back
into a changeling

muffles my desire
my heart mute
I miss its words
its rhymes
its gentle pleasing
the spill of its ink
to stain my solitude
in every hue called love

to exist
and flutter
on the wings of november
beyond the monsoon
beneath a shooting star
you caught
with a song

. . .

one more way ~

02 Thursday May 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, life, living, love, moments, old maps, passion, postmark, relationship, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom

let me now
to lines be drawn –
before and after me
a sweet embrace
remembered
that is all

muscadine
and gypsum root –
marigold and sage
planets strung above
and velvet sky

save for me
the telling –
of one more way to find
paths already waiting
our retreat

take my hand
to hold apart –
the warmth of reaching in
say my name –

as light
remembering

. . .

weaved to the soul ~

02 Thursday May 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling, verse

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, connection, death, forgiveness, grace, home, life, living, love, memory, passion, reason, spirit, spirituality, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom, wonder

would birth
be absolved
by the passing between
or dying held fault
for the slipping away
moments becoming –
as stars to the dark
where hearts
held in secret
are gathered to grace

lingered in loving –
with purpose of life
as ashes to twilight
forgotten to fall
thru ribbons of scarlet
purple and maize
– and held as a passion
forgiving of all

a breathless confession
of moments too few
when promised forever
with all we hold dear
weaved to the soul
by pieces of light –
and waited as every goodbye
disappeared

awash in a river
unnoticed by time –
and swept by a memory
of night into day
no matter the measure
to lives lived between
or how far the first time
I held you
this way

. . .

wanderers ~

01 Wednesday May 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, connection, dreams, fearless, grace, life, love, old maps, passion, reason, restless, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering

come the evening
sweet and blue –
as windswept through the window
would carry me
to worlds beyond the words
beyond the reach
of verses
honeysuckle vine –
beyond the reach
of wanderers
the moon

felt the grace
of falling –
somewhere still I wait
as sunlight
lemon kissed
beyond the shade
were petals spent
in knowing
where the light has gone
morning sits
the night with me
again

. . .

fingers without memory ~

01 Wednesday May 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, spirit, strength, travel, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom, writing

of stories
long rewritten –
to a page
that won’t be kept
secrets folded soft
into the crease
lines to rub
where ink gave out –
fingers without memory
trace the ragged edge
of yesterday

sweet the sound
of almost sung –
names
and dates
and places
sunlight burning
tender through the pines
washes now
the winter –
a moment yet we stay
turned the bed
to face the southern
skies

letters
I’ve been writing
saved my name a place –
walked between my dreams
a mile with you
worried not
the path to choose
or what of time shall fill –

a story
meant for telling
kept for me
the end

. . .

fit the same ~

30 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

bliss, destiny, dreams, family, fearless, forgiveness, grace, life, living, love, memory, passion, reason, relationship, southern, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, woman

of faded pearls
my grandma loved –
though where they came
uncertain
an unmarked box
the man brought down
one Sunday
after church

tied with dimestore string
proof
of someplace sweeter
another name for wearing
fit the same

as stockings
hats
and easter shoes
a blushing bride all over
reminded of a right
before her spring

. . .

between ~

30 Tuesday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, faith, fearless, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, passion, spirit, strength, truth, wandering

millenniums of growing
that I might
hold the seed –
became of seventeen
and twenty-five
became of growing wiser
one lesson
at a time –
would fall between
the fleeting dreams
keeping me
alive

a broken gate
a rusted lock –
and leaves are piling up
lofts are almost empty
yet I cling
onto the vast unknowing
falling through
the sky –
flickers tell of spirit
questioning

the ways before
revealing this –
a pathway through the light
roads are gone
but still the heart defends
a muted celebration –
souls unfolded now
breathless as a bloom
to wake again

. . .