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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: evidence

the rub ~

29 Monday Nov 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

evidence, live, love, poetry, sometimes, tears, time, touch

verse remains
to fill my days
mornings
without you
evidence of movement
to grieve the weight
of touch

another time
what value this
the trade
the rub
the reason
stories laid
beneath the lands
you love

. . .

attempts to hold ~

16 Friday Jul 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, verse

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

ache, days between, dreams, evidence, night, passion, reality, seasons, surrender, time, truth

these arms
resist the morning
when daylight breaks anew –
attempts to hold
what can’t be held –
a flame that burns
clear through
the haunted taste of promise
still lingers on these lips –
a plea surrendered
softly –
as the moon
became a kiss
evidence I waited
and all I dared concede –
drifting at the edges
dreams –
won’t let me be
these hands
are stiff with longing
for paradise they know
passage given
let me in –
a torture letting go

. . .

collecting ~

08 Thursday Jul 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

absolution, carry me, evidence, life, love, memory, seasons, that thing I do, time, truth, writing in the dark

what evidence
remains –
a ring upon my table
the faintest scent
of smoke
within my hair
a shadow burned
from down the hall –
edges I can’t see
reminders
of a lifetime
everywhere
poetry
fills my bed
begged you once
to leave
I’m not the same
nightbirds nest within
weightless
as a memory
familiar discontent –
dust collecting
just beneath my skin

. . .

somewhere ~

24 Thursday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

evidence, it's what I do, knowing, life, love, mystery, provision, sometimes, truth

from a moment
unwritten
the way is derived
every hello put to test
paths through
the mystery
of all my tomorrows
a place
not the same
I confess
evidence comes
as tender reminders
of somewhere
someone
speaks my name
witness to bear
lifetimes for seeking
love I have carried
from the place
I remain

. . .

raven ~

21 Friday May 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

enough, evidence, just this way, let me, life, love, proof, reminders, truth, witness

let me be
until I fade
ragged edges flecked
with blue
a memory reliant
as unstable
let me be
shake me from these ashes
rattle with my bones
til a song emerges
cleanly
as one you know
let me be
til I am lost –
til I am
found

. . .

pretense of beginning ~

28 Wednesday Nov 2018

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

evidence, faith, grace, knowing, life, love, nature, signs, time, trust, truth, writing in the dark

last light

under pretense of beginning
I find peace –
solace in knowing
you are there
silver brushed
against the light
promise ‘neath the snow

. . .

opal song ~

04 Friday Jan 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

angels, becoming, connection, death, destiny, dreams, evidence, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, spirituality, strength, wandering, wisdom, woman, wonder

fleeting

steal the honey
trade my voice –
of Persian poets to linger
rubbing rubber bands
across my rhyme
soothe the beast
of wanting
for wilder –
this retreat
into the nevermore
evading me

of opal song
and rapture willed
beyond this brief existence
uttered soft
a language yet I know
silver words
to cut the gums –
swallowed without question
for where the poison sits
when it is done

mark my way
with berries –
black the pathway ripe
curs’ed be
each memory of briar
dare the day to waking
messy traps
and all –
lure me back with poems
written here

time is but
a squinty eye
staring at the world –
fleeting was his vision
to behold
a history no one could see
paths of fear and fable
blankets pulled aside
to let the cold

listen now
within the greys
shadows sometimes fall
and I shall lean
into your line of love
knowing
as I always have
the tempting taste of sorrows
worn into this wonder
of women wearing wings

will to me
the water
where once the well
went dry –
close the book
when leaving here
but let the cup
remain

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