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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: conscious consciousness

the same you loved ~

09 Saturday May 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

becoming, cherokee, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, living, love, old maps, passion, reason, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wandering

wildflowers

what winters
have you worn away
with rosary and cotton
beneath the fold
where all your secrets lay
of heaven come
one night to find you
standing by my gate
caught between the first to leave
and coming back
to stay

with stories
of your wanderings
beyond the reach of light
with questions of your knowing
where to go
moonlight casts a shadow
on every present tense
would show the way
you knew
to find me home

wrapped in yellow flowers
once the same you loved –
grew along the pasture
a moment
passing through –
remember how
the cedars ached
to block the view of morning
of praying eyes
before the skies
were blue

how many times
have I heard tell
of blossoms in December
beyond the reach
of reason
asleep beneath the snow
flickers bloom
a sweet perfume
of mystery and madness
secrets of all colors
awaiting you
to know

. . .

all souls ~

04 Monday May 2015

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, conscious consciousness, death, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, love, old maps, postmark, reason, restless, resurrection, spirit, strength, value, wandering

names
by some forsaken
the fondest memories
a slight of hand
a slower fate than most
whispers sworn
to secret
reserved for us the same
reminders of another
love I knew –
will I
remain

a silent praise
along the path
for someone no one knows
hands are folded
quilts are wearing through
who of me
I wonder
will there be
when I am gone –
will one return
to speak my name
aloud

. . .

I moved back to Tennessee in 1991.  Three days after the
first on the porch, I noticed something along the back fence line – an edge
amid the briar.  It was a portion of cemetery marker, apparently from
the time when many civil war battles were fought nearby.

There is no name…only dates.  When days are hot, it is a place of retreat,
and many poems have found word there.  Yesterday morning, it seemed
the only place to be – held by one without a name, as witness to my tears.
(I shall give).

Image: 1998 somewhere between here and the place where I was born.  Souls
sleep where solace grows deepest.  “Ask not for whom the bell tolls….”

. . .

hymnal of feathers ~

15 Wednesday Apr 2015

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

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

beauty, blessings, breath, cherokee, connection, conscious consciousness, creation, hearing with the heart, home, knowing, nature, seeing in the dark, southern, touch, truth, unremembered, value, wisdom

showme

will
and I wonder
to places unknown
forgotten the weeds –
my way back to home
a secret
unspoken
by lovers and thieves
echoed by crickets
knees
touching knees
a hymnal
of feathers
as light through the pines
souvenirs left by
the rain
where was I going
who waits the dawn
with promise
of heaven
to love me
again

Author’s Note: I love the woods and I love the shore. A couple of years back, while sitting on my porch, I closed my eyes and raised my face to the sun. But the breeze, he told me something more. In that moment, I noticed the song that is the fluttering of leaves. It is the same as the waves on the shore. I wonder who knew it first, but wonder not at the love that allowed them to share it.

how tender
these blessings of
sapphire and pearl
oceans singing
of leaves

. . .

another new beginning ~

13 Monday Apr 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

beauty, becoming, beginning, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, gravel roads, home, life, love, poetry, storytelling, touch, wandering

findme1

from another
new beginning us
remembered now
as one
were never more
but come as may
another we
begun
from stories
might some other tell
of nights
we dared not sleep
of mornings sweet
to lie awake
warmed by all
we keep

. . .

proof of home ~

09 Thursday Apr 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

acceptance, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, get me back, home, kentucky, seeing in the dark, sometimes, stars, truth, wandering

for every same
another was
unlike of all I’ve known
kept with me
a map of ancient roads
made of places
some have seen
few would recognize
whispered soft
the name of every star
spinning time
as ringlets
round your finger –
let me fall
into the place
where once you were
and I the proof
of home

. . .

habits ~

02 Thursday Apr 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

bliss, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, love, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, self, southern, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wisdom

comein

someone made mention
of rings on the table
habits worn clean
to the bone
a rusted out latch
keeps no one from leaving
a whispered reminder
of reasons
to stay
where the fences
need mending
and water runs cool
sprung from a river
two miles ‘neath the porch
we watched the sun rise
another
one day
when spoke of intention
promise undone
by a change in the
weather
warm cotton gowns
I dared not replace
with the pretense of love
the essence of summer
left on the line
and a glass
of the best I knew how

. . .

the last get me back ~

01 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

becoming, cherokee, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, family, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, postmark, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wisdom

whereIamknown

once was
a man
I never did know
my daddy
before
he fell into love
whiskey
and fifty two cards
more than most
a heart split apart
by the last
get me back
to a place
not for keeping
returned me
to find
forever had never
been lost
all that was mattered
to the ways
I had come
without need
for a map
or a star
wished upon

. . .

listen ~

29 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Rambling

≈ 25 Comments

Tags

becoming, conscious consciousness, death, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, grief, healing, knowledge, life, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, restless, sorrow, star crossed, strength, truth, understanding, wandering

rememberedhere

on this sweltering dawn
I stand barefoot on a narrow step
looking out through eyes
blurred by emotion
seeking an unknown part of my past
a place I must have known
would find me here
with no one yet to answer
but for me
the purple buds are tempted
another week to stay

sorrow comes easily
as in the counting still –
of friends he seems
more willing than the rest
to listen as my heart concedes
I knew not when to break
or what of verses now
would yesterday
forsake

silent
raindrops
will comfort me now
a hundred times – of listening
volumes unconfessed
across a missing
separated –
mourning
words of love

how long this day
in coming
was there time before this loss
I can finally begin to recite
in an almost whisper
ten thousand volumes
of verse I never shared
and let my heart beat steadily
the celestial rhythms
of mourning
and show you the depths –

sentiment
hidden for the lifetime
that has separated us

. . .

memory of none ~

29 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, passion, reason, spirit, truth, understanding, wisdom

nearenoughtohome

reasons
and seasons
worthless regard
for the way
the rain sang
of the desert sometimes
telling anew
with words
scarcely heard
spent in beginning
a search
for the last
place we were almost
torn from the story
redeemed
by the memory
of none

. . .

recalled to me ~

26 Thursday Mar 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, breath, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, memory, old maps, poetry, reason, seeing in the dark, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom, woman

intothenothing

the wind
yet remembers
the weight of my willing
another I was
but a girl – only ten
crickets and
tadpoles
blackberry winters
barefoot as
lifetimes
recalled to me then

spirits
carry me
home by the river
out past the waiting
once promised
for us
a truth
undecided
as roads without name
an echo of someone
I used to be –
loved

. . .

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