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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: conscious consciousness

places just before ~

20 Monday Aug 2018

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

becoming, blessings, breath, conscious consciousness, gathered, home, inspired, learning, life, love, nature, spirit, truth

daybreak

I am breath
against the branches
light across the green
ten thousand other mornings
save for thee

I am waves
upon the water –
tiny shells beneath your feet
warmth that keeps a memory
of home

I am the first you know
before your dreams
are slipped beyond your sleep
a sigh that bears the name
of destiny

I am the reason
you’ve forgotten –
as a nightbird
I will sing
of blues you only dreamed
remember me

. . .

creases ~

03 Sunday Jan 2016

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

ageless, assurance, becoming, conscious consciousness, divine, forgiveness, home, love, memory, sacred intimacy, time, truth

immortal

pages folded
spine to spine
your head upon my shoulder
where soft
the tangled spent
of words is kept
silent as my heart
reverbs…
to still the oldest current
of home to call us
deeper now
than bone

tears
a sweet assurance
of years beyond my own
ten thousand more
might dare I speak
and wonder
there your name
from creases
in becoming
where I was
before as now

pages drying
words –
a single sun

. . .

dreams we’ve forgotten ~

27 Sunday Dec 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

acceptance, becoming, breath, conscious consciousness, destiny, divine, fearless, like this, moments, old maps, returning, sacred intimacy, story, unremembered

bellbuckle2012

winter was ne’er
for the fragile of heart
and yet I remember
so clearly the day
clouds were laid over
a hole in the sky
blackbirds were telling
of lovers by name
a destiny curs’ed
and frayed
unknown to believers
weaved into faith
when last I was here
– as time
without place
as touch unrepented
warmed by the still –
a blossom untested
til now
november
was never the story untold
repeated in
chorus ten thousand
tongues old
played for the one
without memory of less
truth held in check
by the coming back
round
to dreams we’ve
forgotten
somehow

. . .

a little ~

09 Monday Nov 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

acceptance, beauty, becoming, blessings, conscious consciousness, creation, destiny, dreams, grace, light, love, missing, nature, seasons, timing

toloveyoumore

twas late
for the season
berries and passion
before e’er another
conceived us to be
where the sweet
lull of lavender wafted
the summer
well past the turning
of (wishes to) leaves
when dragons hummed
at the mention of dark
louder than any
were known to recall
honeybee sunsets
cicadas when all we were
wanting was some
other reason to count
without counting
back (missing)
the swell of July
and the bittersweet
sting of blackberry
why did you go
when knowing I’d grieve
you (a little) this way
or write to your
wanting
(some other one day)
when honeysuckle
bloomed past the edges
of june
(unashamed of her
timing) –
her wasted perfume

. . .

between ~

20 Sunday Sep 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

assurance, conscious consciousness, home, light, love, moments, soul, time

rememberedhome

between
the breaths
where promise made
a fool of fools
as I
lines were drawn
for crossing
straight
and true
the same as stars
remembered me
across the deepest
night
a name I gave
to all I loved
but you

soul
of where
before I was
a part of all
this passing

held for but a while
against your heart

. . .

hightide and redbud ~

28 Friday Aug 2015

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

angels, assurance, beauty, blessings, connection, conscious consciousness, country, family, flowers, grace, home, knowing, life, love, nature, oneness, sorrow, story, together, trees, truth

Friday. Another sweet surrender.

Whenever I need re-centering, I know where to go. With every return to nature, I am strengthened. I am remembered to myself time and again.redbudhome

Just this morning, before heading off to work, I sat for a moment and pulled myself into the now, focused not on the two places where nothing is – the past, the future. The breeze was soft and even in the present, there were scatterings of other times at the edges of my memory. So, I focused on the trees that push against the fence line.

They are without rule, without the strict reinforcement of man. They grow, and I let them. But in them, I was again reminded back to a lesson, one which I needed their help to re-find.

Every country girl moved to the big city knows one thing for certain. Regardless where you are, there is a part of you that grows deeper than concrete. You also know that while it’s a wonderful thought to dig up some of those baby trees for transplanting to city yards, it rarely works.

That’s because nature is without the limits of man’s wisdom. She grows untended, dogwood pressed against oak; redbud blossoming between pine and sweet gum; lady slipper and sumac in the same patch of moss. If you dig one up, expecting to see thick strong roots, you’ll be surprised. They aren’t that way at all. They are fragile and sprawling and weaved into each other. It is an environment that teaches them both to fight and to bend. So, if you relocate that pretty little redbud to the wide open space of a city yard, she will likely die.

And there, the lesson. We not only belong together; we are meant to be together. Our roots are made stronger when bound with another, reminding us to each other (to home) again and again.

savemenextAs some of you know, my father was diagnosed with Parkinson disease some years ago. It is a blessing and a curse. Like any other disease, it is a lover that only ever wants more of that which we hold dear. But the blessing is in the lessons learned – in the weaving together of joys, memories, and challenges. Even sorrow is a gift for it surely never leaves us where it found us. I reflect on my interaction with my daddy, mama, my brother and sisters. Where one is lacking, another picks up. Even in the tight space of a hospital room or a kitchen, we are remembered back to the dance of being one, together, the same. One leans in as another sways. Weaving never is finished. Knots are tied and re-tied to remind us of moments fragile and perfect, but only always of love – the divine water that allows us to bloom, to grow, to strengthen, to pray, to heal.

So, back to the woods (the now). If you dared to dig up that little redbud, and tried to unravel her roots, you might be amazed. Not only would you find them intertwined with the neighboring pine and dogwood, but you’d find traces of roots from trees and flowers long since gone.

Her real beauty (her strength) lies not in the blush that decorates a forest, but in that which reaches deeper than dirt. As with all of us, the real story is the one written to her soul.

. . .

what story
mine
beginning here
from traces of hello
resounds within
the echoes of goodbye
last we loved
might I have known
the way
would lead me back
where we are new –
made one
within the light

. . .

of this ~

23 Sunday Aug 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

acceptance, angels, beauty, bessings, bliss, cherokee, conscious consciousness, grace, living, love, nature, peace, sorrow, soul

onlymine

in the sweet
that is waking
my heart with the dawn
light fills each window
with graces
unknown
to those only sleeping
dreaming of this
dew written soft
to the bible
of home

. . .

whispers to lace ~

21 Tuesday Jul 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

acceptance, age, blessings, conscious consciousness, divine this, forgiveness, gravel roads, home, knowing, life, love, truth, will

savingme

of moments
I’ve known
a path through
the tears
a faint recollection
of days unto years
poetry carved
as rings to
the wood
of seasons and reasons
tethered to place
come as a lover
of longing embrace
as nights without
slumber
whispers
to lace

silence the same
as forgetting

some other
another
of dreaming I knew
the weight of remember
was passing me
through
noonday and were you
to hold me
like this
as a moment of always
burned to a kiss
lest living
come easy
as light on the morn
as wake to the keeping
was love
to discern

. . .

tethered by remembers ~

03 Wednesday Jun 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

becoming, blessings, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, fearless, grace, gravel roads, healing, life, love, memory, moments, seasons, signs, soul, story, touch

smokymorning

pardon
my reflection
on moments
such as these
a place and time
wherein we are
the same
tethered
by remembers
stories into one
another life
from living held apart
as gentle
arms surrounding
breath against
my ear
constellations
gathered us around
was ever
there
the way returned
to learn of love
anew
forever rings
a silent
I love you

. . .

if ever if only ~

16 Saturday May 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

acceptance, angels, assurance, beauty, becoming, blessings, connection, conscious consciousness, divine, fearless, grace, gravel roads, home, love

willyouknowme

if ever
if only
and here we begin
the coming back whole
from the past

a living
surrendered
to demons and thieves
angels the color
of morning

linger
on windowsills
roll in the grass
laughter spilt
with careless regard

for the weight
of forever
a sweet memory
held to the heart
by the soul

. . .

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Poetic Thoughts

Benjamin Grossman

Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic

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

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MyWorldsInWords

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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

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Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

Broken roads of Destiny

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

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