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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: environment

raining red ~

21 Wednesday Mar 2018

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

environment, inheritance, life, love, memory, nature, resurrection, soul, spirit, time, to live long enough, treasure, truth, value

gracesreturned

when the storm
at last is over –
will the earth breathe free again
will the mountains
stop their trembling
such that robins weep
rivers raining red
when the storm is past
will we remember
another time –
a sweeter place
when ashes didn’t fall
to cover grace

. . .

shadows ~

04 Thursday Apr 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, cherokee, connection, destiny, environment, faith, fearless, forgiveness, global warming, God, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, restless, self, spirit, spirituality, strength, understanding, value, wandering

fire

beyond the realms
of all we know
another waits
in senses
forever bloomed
immortal breath of fire

the steady beat –
with skies to walk
and naught
a thought to tarry
reserving us
reminders to become

of markers left
and letters carved
into a place
we passed –
what joy to find we’ve wandered
close to home

another day
this way resolved
to sit a while
in slumber
forsaken to the night
– the weary soul

uncharted there
from porch to post
burning stars so bright
ships are tracing
slivers of the moon

backward to
the wishing well
where there you are
the same –
a light within the current
– sacred stone

Author’s Note: Inspired (in part) by the following passage from
Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver…

“As long as we won’t commit to knowing everything, the presumption
is we know nothing… 
he did not claim that God
moves in mysterious ways. Instead he seemed to believe,
as she did, 
though they never could have discussed it,
that everything else is in motion while God

does not move at all. God sits still, perfectly at rest,
the silver dollar at the bottom

of the well, the question.”

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

fadingthe 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

. . .

memories of stone ~

10 Sunday Mar 2013

Posted by tornadoday in folklore, Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, environment, faith, fearless, forgiveness, global warming, grace, life, nature, old maps, reason, relationship, restless, resurrection, spirit, strength, understanding, value, wisdom

slow me
 butterflies
who lived to love
the trees of mexicali –
are floating now
the appalachian trail

stronger winds
are blowing
northern candles west –
as southern nights
 are pushed against
the dawn

rivers rush
beyond their fame
black the velvet feathers
are found beyond
the memories of stone

twilight winks
 above the tides
where once a culture crumbled
sands are set
again
by ancient hands

…

souvenirs ~

02 Saturday Mar 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

beauty, becoming, cherokee, connection, earth, environment, fearless, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, old maps, passion, signs, spirit, spirituality, strength, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wisdom, wonder

backwards
and still –
I come every time
forgetting againremains
what was never my lot –
a river of feathers
float on the air
crushed by the branches
in rush
to the sea

of white
honeysuckle
the hardest
of pearls –
hands thick as bark
beaded briar
whispers long buried
as story with stone
lacey white nest
of the earth

wing’ed the velvet
of once magic swords
pass as a thought into day –
stallions embarked
on paths cross the deep
nature foretelling
the depth of

our sins

ripples are tracing
paths –
thru the black
lost are the seasons
unspoken
 by name

babies are crying
somewhere past the dark –
stars feel their way
to the sun

. . .

Recent Posts

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Benjamin Grossman

Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic

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