Tags
becoming, breath, conscious consciousness, destiny, distant near, dreams, faith, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, places, reason, self, settled in, spirit, truth, understanding, unremembering, value, wandering
last night
I dreamed
(my waking one) –
a house
my ways becoming
and split three times
the porch
into the sun
the steps were broken
(all my paths
were worn)
held me there
one winter –
buried me
beneath
an ancient bough
– a stretch
of cedar wings
a longing
(not so much) apart
recalls another me
miles without a story
(coming true)
blossoms from a place
where once
I scattered
memories
. . .
tornadoday 