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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: easy

fields of ash ~

02 Thursday Feb 2023

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

alzheimers, breath, easy, here, memory, still, time, we begin, wondering

how much of me
still wonders
at this place
we’ve come to be
how many years –
miles
we put behind
how much will i remember
when my days
are all but done
will i recall the light
found burning
in your eyes
remember me
this destiny
when all the rest are gone
fields of ash
winter wheat mistaken
let for this
another grieve
how i loved you so
saved my heart
from wondering
for long

. . .

worlds not yet discovered ~

04 Friday Feb 2022

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

easy, poet, poetry, resurrection, still, time, truth, where I am found, words

let me be
let me write
of worlds not yet
discovered –
light where none exists
but for your eyes
let me see
eternity
is not so much
to barter
time is an illusion
let me wake
within the hush
of presence
moonlight haunting skin
let me fall
let me breathe
of worlds
where I am
found

. . .

could be ~

10 Friday Dec 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

breath, easy, home, life, love, moments, story, touch

could be
all i need
is forever to surrender
another dawn
to rise
within your arms

could be
all i need
is a way
for getting over
eternity to wash
ash to snow

could be
all i need
is a sigh beneath
my shiver
breath upon the fire
i made my home

. . .

recognition ~

02 Thursday Dec 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

all I know, easy, life, love, nature, release, time, writing in the dark

whatever this
as lives between
depths beyond the dark
some distance
undecided by a word
a heart
without memory
but fearful still
of touch
trembles at the thought
of prying fingers

silence now
the sweet erase
of breath
where breath is gone
succumb to praise
emptied of goodbye
a psalm
we never sang
blessed recognition
was here
we knew the first
of love
enough

for nothing
waits to fill the void
with graces –
yet unspoken
blue beyond
where sighs
are come
to wing

. . .

author’s note: sometimes the will to sleep exceeds my reach. fingers
fumble in the darkness – becoming wings – a pen greedy for release

. . .

never changed ~

30 Wednesday Dec 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

dreams, easy, home, journey, life, locks, love, morning, seasons, story, time, trust, waiting since you left, welcome in

I’ve been waiting
out the winter –
for another sweet hello
as headlights press
the darkness like a ghost
there’s a map
inside my dresser –
silver lines against the blue
doesn’t matter
where we start
if I’m with you

my faith
is resurrected –
at the whisper of your name
a sigh of signs
and still my heart obeys
I can’t recall
the reasons
or how many roads
between
all I know is
all I need
to breathe again

the locks were never changed
to fit another
no plans for getting on
for getting by
don’t let the time it takes
be all that matters –

the sun still waits
all morning
for the night

. . .

the way ~

10 Tuesday Nov 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

blessing, easy, grace, home, it's what I do, life, love, nature, smile, something here, the way, truth, without words

how many times
I’ve cursed
the slamming of the door
a backward glance
with nothing more to say
I’ve left my fears behind me
praying you might find me
some other time
you’d steal my breath
away

stay
that I might learn you
from all the things
you love
– the way you feel
the way you laugh –
the way you speak my name
sometimes I can’t but wonder
of another life
we made

morning spreads
her golden wings
as I lean upon the gate –
anchored to a life so undefined
tho not for this you tarry
something here won’t wait –
I love your smile
as sunlight
through the pines

. . .

clementine and ash –

04 Friday Sep 2020

Posted by tornadoday in home, Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

carry me sweetly, country, easy, grace, home, life, love, nature, simple

there’s a cloud
above the meadow
where ancient starlings spin
twelve across
as one
their feathers glide
slicing through my morning
a reflection of the sun
as cedars press around
on every side

clementine and ash
are twisted by the barn
a piece of lace
left over from the spring
crickets come alive
for a pleasure
born of shade
and I still lie awake
to hear them sing

. . .

nothing much to spare ~

31 Monday Aug 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

blessings, breath, easy, love, moments, reflection, spirit, storms, time, truth

is this the day
I might have traded
for another life somewhere
cotton sheets
and sunday morning –
with nothing much
to spare

melodies
you played to me
are stretched along the line
as the scent
of summer storms
swirls beneath
the pines

a crooked board
a broken cup –
rings I’ve traced before
moments I was wanting
for another –
so much more

whispers bind
my life of pieces –
and everything is new
hands are fit together
as I’m falling
into you

. . .

night sweats ~

02 Thursday Jan 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

dreams, easy, falling, home, life, love, spirit, stardust, time, truth, worth

curtain

in darkness
I fumble
reaching for the dream
that will pull me
home
prisms of stardust
sweep downward
through the cavernous falling
as all I am leaving behind
without sorrow
disappears

. . .

unnumbered ~

14 Tuesday May 2019

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

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

back into loving arms, breath, divine, easy, forgiveness, grace, home, life, love, moments, shallow breaths, time, understanding

160229151436-09-instant-vacation-travel-0301-restricted-super-169

had I known
from the start
what the stars had in mind
might have bound
up my heart early on
perceived as transgression
forgiven as such
unnamed to the darkness
just before dawn
where poetry stands
as proof of our days
was here that we first learned to love
had my soul been aware
of another somewhere
pages unnumbered
and bare
carbon impressions
of weakness and light –
fragile remembrance
of sight

. . .

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