fault of tides ~

28 Tuesday Sep 2021

Tags

acceptance, adjustment, change, constellations, destiny, fate, grace, life, love, stars, time

how I wish
I were immune
to the rising fault of tides
to the shift that
breaks my rhythm
sets my heart adrift
to the strangeness
born of midnight
a voice inside my head
books I’ve long forgotten
lay open on my bed
that I would
this dream remember
like the first
I held of you
when tides were low
moonlight fell
against the pines –
as life I didn’t know
I didn’t know –
a part of me
mistaken for another
left behind

. . .

beyond the place remembered ~

05 Wednesday Dec 2018

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

change, choice, dreams, home, life, love, stars, time, treasure, truth, wealth, what I keep, writing in the dark

venus

embers of a faithful star
blow across the night
to fan the spark –
of another warm embrace
eyes reflect the knowing
of where we yet begin –
blessings here
I wished for
yesterday

of loss
I bear no sorrow –
no hurtful memory
love remains a treasure
mine to keep
beyond the place
remembered –
a door is opened wide
night birds call –
to another dream
I sleep

within the hope
of evermore –
is every plan I made –
a life beyond this living
undenied
a name I wear against my heart –
stories wait to tell –
of want beyond this wishing
a star prepared
to fly

. . .

author’s note – now and then, I awake in sweat,
breath catching as I wonder why
in the darkness – words find me –
loosed without prejudice or fear
sometimes they fit together, but others, they do not
last night one of those
and these, the telling

. . .

held in place ~

13 Sunday Dec 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

angels, change, dreams, grace, heros, home, love, memory, quiet, salvation, seasons, solitude, still, time

in the cool dense
where sunlight spreads
across my winter bed
words are left
to whispers on the night
memories
and all that was
before the same again
names so rarely spoken
– now a sigh

of once upon a spring
bouquet
we knew before we knew
as shadows cast
by honeysuckle vine
hands to fit
where heros lay –
promise feels the same
as one to love
held in place
divine

. . .

a moment of something ~

15 Friday May 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

change, divine, forever this, go ahead, gravel roads, home, let me, life, love, postmark, sacred intimacy, save the best, seasons, time, twilight

I’m the same
as remembered
though years
pressed between
linen
stained by a rose
a moment
of something
graces me still
a photo
come loose
at the corners
where dates are penned
gray
and names are
erased
by the turning of leaves
light through the page
where once
we were something
once we were well
on our way
to the same
ever after
as easy as breathing
in an ocean
of stars
fixed on another
hello
where have you been
how is it I know
what was truth
I am still
the same

. . .

warmer ~

18 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

change, connection, death, destiny, earth, environment, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, passion, reason, relationship, seasons, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wandering, weather, wonder

the butterflies
are drifting –
as are stolen winter wings
were fated by a snowflake
left to die

northern
their progression
higher mountains
richer wines
tho journeyed now
to blossoms not quite bloomed

will doom the flame
from flaring –
the moth to circling
round about
in seasons
without home

who shall say
of these to loss
we might have saved them when
before we gave of lives
we didn’t know

gathered
as a blue bouquet
in treetops of the clouds
swimming out
beyond the evening fog

folded
to a hurried prayer
spoke before the sun
left to grieve
our souls –
another dawn

. . .

facing south ~

05 Tuesday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

change, cherokee, dreams, grace, gravel roads, nature, reason, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom, woman

I papered peacocks
o’er the roses
and moved the walls around
were facing south
the barn – to block the moon
but who am I complaining
to the gods
of northern lights
when shadows dare to grow
beneath the pines

who goes there
yet no one ever answers
though I swear I’ve heard
gossip after dark
listen – can’t you hear me
would they rather that I worry
fearful of their presence
on the lawn
who am I
I wonder what they know

do they haunt the night
to question where I’ve gone