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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: family

who I was before I was ~

05 Thursday Aug 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

family, grace, living, love, secrets, sometimes, story, the part you never knew, truths, who i was before I was, writing in the dark

granny kept his secrets
until the day she died –
surrendered with her breath
every want
to question why

some stories flow a river
beginning at the end
til all we have is what became
of places we have been

tis why the nightbird cries
remembering her song
– what man became my father
when mama came along

I hold my demons closer
than words I dare not speak
truths that weigh much more
than you love me

for every doubt
another waits
to claim the life between
who I was before I was –
dreams I dream

for every secret traded
there are some I’ll never tell
– why granny kept her boots
in the woods
beyond the well

. . .

silent conversations ~

01 Thursday Jul 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, verse

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

abundance, aging, blessings, breath, dementia, family, gifts, home, life, love, memory, moments, wealth

near the end
he wandered –
could scarce remember me
a vanilla shake
then
he’d start to fall
searching for a memory
within a stranger’s face
a picture of a picture
permanence displaced
tho now and then
those liquid eyes
would speak when words were lost
in silent conversations
we’d say it all –
the best of best
a world made right
love –
and there’d we stay
wrapped within the moment
of ten thousand
sweeter days
I’d whisper
as he fell in love
with a voice he knew by heart
arms that reached
to find him –
with every precious
start

. . .

Author’s Note: In the months before my daddy passed, there would be days when I visited – days when he didn’t know me. Yet, he would allow me there, watching my hands as I touched him, my mouth as I spoke…… I’ve often said that every girl should be allowed at least one moment when their father falls in love with them. ❤ And here, we stay.

lest I fall ~

16 Wednesday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

belonging, essence, family, love, nature

silver blades
curve to meet
a fairytale of green
sharper now
their presence
on the lawn
where babies
robbed of mama
lean
and twist
and bob
help me
lest I fall
into the place
where she won’t come

. . .

better than most ~

18 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Rambling, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

family, forgiveness, knowing, love, remembrance, truth, understanding, wealth

At the recent passing of my aunt, I am reminded of all the things I love and loved about her – how she enjoyed blueberry syrup, her love for coffee, the sound of her laughter. I also reflect on the things I’ve surely gathered from her – my backbone, my stature, my love for pepper on cantaloupe, and the way I hold my hand over my heart when something touches me.

I’m humbled in the blessing of our lives clipped together, these ‘things’ that we share (we carry, we keep). But, I am also grateful to know about them – to know what she loved as well as how she loved.

We should want for nothing more than to have someone truly know us – what we dream, what we grieve, what we love (when the night is dark and the ground so very cold).

I am reminded of an instance some years ago. My husband and I had a pretty deep discussion about my assertion that he might not know me as well as he thought. To prove my point I asked, ‘what’s my favorite color’.

Let me say here that I’m painfully aware that I am far more observant than most people. I listen for every hint of the story. If you mention some author to me over coffee in January, don’t be surprised when you receive a signed edition for Christmas. It’s what I do, and yet, I like to think myself forgiving of those who aren’t made the same.

But I also want to believe that those who love us most should be inclined to know us better than most.

Anyway, back to the story. This ‘conversation’ occurred during a time when my brother-in-law traveled quite a bit and as a result, my sister and her little ones stayed with us a few nights each week. It so happened that they arrived just as the above discussion was ending.

Cameron, her two year-old son, was beaming as he came through the door, declaring he had a present for me (sure payment for the fact that I always had one for him). His little hand was clutched tight in front of him as I knelt down, excited for sure, and asked what it might be. As he slowly uncurled his fingers, I could see that a red M&M had melted all over his hand. O wow, I said. Then he looked straight at me (through me) and said ‘I got it for you because it’s your favorite color.’ ❤️

Even now, I’m smiling just as I did in that moment………….

I pray that I never have cantaloupe and pepper without thinking of my aunt Lillian. And when I die, God help the poor soul who dares to bury me in blue…

might that you remember
the color of my eyes –
the way my fingers
warmed against your skin
how I take my coffee
and where my weakness lies
what I love –
for whom I’ll come
again

. . .

when roses bloom in winter ~

18 Thursday Feb 2021

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

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

blessings, death, family, grief, home, immortal divine, legacy, love, memory, spirit, time

what of time
was ever ours
eternity to claim
when roses bloom in winter –
will one recall
our name

tis there we live
immortal beat –
for years beyond our years
a photograph
of a photograph –
as love we reappear

as blessings
where we left them be
a smile remembers when –
love was all we knew of life
– is there we touch
again

until the night
is drawn
across the memory of us
would that another
speak aloud –
a name
the same as love

. . .

Lillian Rebecca Smith George
grace in a cotton dress
1923 – 2021

small –

07 Friday Aug 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

a time for telling, abundance, blessings, circle of life, closer to home, divine truth, family, love

As I was looking for something else today, I happened upon this photo….and the quote, “life isn’t a station to arrive at, but a means by which we travel” came to mind.

Though it surely seemed like many miles from granny and grampa’s house to the store, it wasn’t at all. Let us forever remember the little things as big….life as way more than we expected. The picture – little steve, sis, and hannah making the trek back to the store from granny’s…..remembering for me a path they never realized was so blessed. ❤

rush ~

10 Wednesday Jun 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

blessings, family, grief, home, honor, joy, legacy, life, love, memories, remnants of a life well-lived, sorrow, time

beyond the rivers edge

too soon
the rush –
of stars to flight
of lullabies
rehearsed –
warming how our hearts
were broken through

beyond the bend
a river flows –
in rifts of joy
and sorrow
lines are stretched
to frame an endless blue

there you are
awaiting –
with wishes for us here
where love remains
with every thought of you

. . .

for daddy
four years and counting
the days between

 

met with rhyme –

11 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

a light on the porch, all I know of living, family, give it up, life. rememberance, lifetimes, longing, love, poet, returning home

for every time
forgotten you
the road between
begun
and counted for my worries
every mile
for cares
I thought it mattered
now it seems I’ve lost my way
returning your
remembrance
as a smile

a verse or two
maybe three or four
as meter met
with rhyme
stories we were telling
on the way
sits the same
an unlined page
fevered fight with time
how few the poet knows
have less to say

places still
my soul recalls
the miracle of pen
as hush before a poem
we appear
crowded vowels rewritten
backward to my hands
words are given voice
tho none can hear

. . .

little hands ~

07 Tuesday Apr 2020

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

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

connection, destiny, dreams, faith, family, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, inheritance, knowledge, life, love, memory, old maps, our greatest treasure, passion, reason, strength, truth, understanding, value

windowtomyheart

Of all the things we carry with us, home is perhaps the lightest.

Every year or so, I find reason to be in the area where my grandparents lived for most of my life. Each time, my initial response is the same ‘who moved the house closer to the road?’

In my memory, the yard was huge, as was the orchard and the pond. It was surely a day’s walk to my grandpa’s store (rather than the quarter mile it is now). And how could such a little house and little porch hold so many people, so much love?

In the confines of my heart, the roof pushes against my breastbone and apples fall to the safety of little hands.

We may move, and we may know the feel of many floors beneath our naked feet……..but always, there is something greater we carry with us. We may wander, but we never really leave.

*sigh*

there’s no sign
to point the way
no wear upon the road
but I’d swear
the air is cleaner
in this place

beyond the want
for getting back –
someone waits me now
denied the fault
for leaving –
opened arms of grace

. . .

Republished from original – 2014

through my bones ~

06 Monday Apr 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

blessing, daddy, family, grief, home, in my bones, love, memories, reminders, seasons, spirit, time

beyond

it’s been awhile
these days between
the first kiss
and the last –
years have rolled
as thunder
through my bones
reminders of the summers
we laughed
until we cried
knee deep in the river
that was life

. . .

in loving rememory –
Robert Brady
9/11/32 – 4/6/2016
love is the best of all we carry

❤

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