not for making ~

13 Wednesday Jun 2012

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, faith, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, living, love, nature, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, truth, wandering, wisdom, writing

nights I sit
with fingers curled
just above the keys –
and stare into the dark
that is my view

beyond the barn
a lantern sways –
flickering by wing
an early bed made good
by evergreen

quiet pours around me
as longing settles in –
was once before
I wrote –
and someone read

words were not for making
I have none of my own –
but music
lives in silence
lest I sing

the place I keep
beneath the board –
a universe becoming
of where I loved –
tis there I love again

echoes fold
within the fog
branches dip and marry –
moonlight pools in places
I belong

tips to touch –
the world awaits
in memory of creation –
cedar boughs to kiss
the willing page

street lights ~

12 Tuesday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, cherokee, dreams, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, nature, old maps, reason, restless, spirit, truth, wandering, wisdom, wonder

beyond the still
of eight o’clock –
candles breech the distance
and gather round
the aging fence –
like wayward butterflies
lost to winds
their mirrored soul –
now they light the darkness
to guard the path
along the wood
lest I be coming back
and see them there
a multitude of promises I’ve known –
whispers like the silk
that is their sound
nightlights where the evening sits
yellow flashing signs
of where they go
I cannot say for sure
but in the peace that touches me
when I have passed beyond
I breathe into the rush
that knows my soul

memories of grace ~

11 Monday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

connection, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, living, love, memory, old maps, reason, restless, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom

whatever proof
you seek to find –
my arms are empty now
of all I have –
would give again
of love – as fate allowed

of mornings bright
without the need
to wait on love’s refrain
how tender this – the passing on
while yet as one remain

for every time
I let you down –
let not another be
remembered as the best I kept
in shrouds of mystery

no burden
for the fearful one
no call to fill my place
broken never kept regret –
for memories of grace

whatever else is given
than to be at peace
once more
would I be less to understand
these lessons waited for

no long way back
or short way home –
not one could take from me
the truth I hold
beneath my skin –
as only you can see

yet the same ~

11 Monday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, connection, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, love, memory, old maps, reason, spirit, truth, wandering

I wonder sometimes
what’s the last you recall
was I not (yet the same)
as you knew
when remembered my name
as a sigh of hello
and a wind barely gone
like the breath
of a storm

for all that I write
some words will not shake
though I’ve waited
with pen to my soul
and scattered my pages
as morning to noon –
never written
(even now
are unknown)

there’s a place
in my dreams
somewhere I once lived
with nothing –
no remnant of proof
just a house (with me standing)
someplace I can’t say
four rooms
from the front
I’ve been counting so long –
ten steps from the porch
to become

where and I wander
more and more
as I must –
tis a life
where I’m dreaming
awake

you and I passing
on paths to the sun
as once there were moons
on the rise
thirteen seasons –
(returning us home)
days come to days
come to light

for all that I was
I am not
yet the same

choice (to choose) ~

11 Monday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, gravel roads, life, living, love, nature, reason, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, woman

was past the need for choosing
when I chose again (to be)
no memory remained of
what you said
(or what I heard)
was only my (desire)
a need to search each wonder why
and when at last to understand
reasons as I would
choose (to choose) again

roads to breech
and days between
paths took me away
rural roads
and tin roofs (singing still)
boxes nailed from tree to tree
a river flowed right by
(had I forgotten
just how blue your winter kiss)

I waded in
teased by leaves
were somewhere spinning songs
pieces left of me (I couldn’t place)

held me there
sad as sails
(kaleidescope of colors)
pulled beneath the rapids
by the flood

forever breaks
in ripples along familiar shores
stretching clear and deep
to raise the proof
of time (a sweet surrender)
not as young as I was then
leaves fell from branches
of the tree where first we loved

lost from where they came
they go (again)

backroads ~

10 Sunday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling, verse

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, old maps, reason, relationship, restless, spirit, strength, truth, wisdom

senseless seems
the passing fever –
warm then cold again
as weavers weave
to fields already brown
a yearning soon forgotten –
else beauty turn away
to find the blooms
though hidden there
lost within the grey –
daisy with the weaper

cinderella
surely passed this way

a mile or two
to wander back –
o’er paths we meant to follow
kept for this a map –
the best to find
when once before encountered love
along these lowly backroads
remembered how we sat
here in the shade

and spoke with words unspoken
eyes a story told
berries ripened faster
than our truth –
the trees forgot to tell us
one day we’d understand
of lifetimes left
in moments here –
drying in the sun

southern winds returning ~

08 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

bliss, cherokee, destiny, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, old maps, reason, restless, self, spirit, strength, truth, wisdom, woman

welcomed –
every thought impressed
upon my wing-ed heart
cutting through my memories –
(forget)
another call to rise again
who will then remember
repeating (faithfully)
each name –

watched for these
as lights to glow
a reason to consider
and when will all this reaching
have an end –
as southern winds returning
as twilight pressed into
leaves are spun to circles
falling round

chords without the words
(I know)
uncertain harmonies –
tho once before
spun softly into gold
webs of understanding
October (every time)
who am I becoming
to leave you here
alone

remembering
the weight of time –
begs a different answer
than pieces glued together
stories now –
some other fate deciding
sorrows come to soon
will gather ’round my bed
touching prayers
so tenderly

where will then
the lone dove weep
as sunlight
swept to shadows
wings – a quiet wave
brush wonder on the ground
moonlight and mystery
winds beneath my waning
where my years
have gone –
to bring me home

would heaven heed
this quiet sail
surrendered unto dreams
moonlight made for soaring far –
alone remembering

plastic roses ~

08 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

breath, connection, death, dreams, faith, family, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, memory, old maps, reason, relationship, restless, resurrection, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom, writing

within the depths
of aging hearts –
are memories of love
though some a ways have gone
and paths grown thick

so few without
a name recalled –
for where they sleep (I wonder)
with pieces of my past
to resurrect –

in stillness now
a soldier lies
beside a fallen angel
while rows of plastic roses
grieve them gone

wherever grace be given
their silence warms the breeze
a kiss to seal
(stories left untold)

forgiven me
these rites of life –
might I their voices carry
o’er words another saved
of times to tell

bring them back
with tears of truth –
midnight recollection
of places come to light
within my own

let not them rest uneasy
or music be denied
a place to play
beyond the moss –
where lies eternal love

coalesce ~

06 Wednesday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, destiny, dreams, gravel roads, life, living, love, old maps, poetry, reason, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom

In the stillness left of standing –
dare I will you (come again)
as drenching rains
to save a crop of stone
so long ago the noonday
has burned across my brow
and yesterday has garnered
more than most

with all but one
of where you were
and where you’ve gone (away)
though someone thought they saw you
on the path we took as one
I wonder was I walking
there beside –

tis not so much for taking
as it is the letting go
though freedoms can been found
in both I’m told –
of destinies
I have no choice
but to speak into the wind
and pray my words will reach
the place you hold

for every one
another comes
and from their best intended
a life conspired by touch
(we won’t deny)
memories distracted
by the way you tie your shoes
and how is my eyes
are just as brown

something more
than one small thing
can change our ways (becoming)
and fade against the canopy
of what I meant to say
nothing stays so long
that I’ve forgotten
how it feels –

to look into your soul
and find my heart

souvenirs ~

05 Tuesday Jun 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

breath, connection, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, memory, nature, old maps, postmark, reason, relationship, restless, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, wisdom

were we ever here (I wonder)
sometimes I look for signs –
a tell-tale love that left itself in crumbs
ribbons worn to branches
smoke to hide the blue –

letters carved a season to the bark
pieces floating elsewhere
out beyond my sight

imagined I a place
where I retrieve
the message that was written
words as silence ring
but I remain no different
for the proof

wherein the vault of yesterdays
are photographs of me
a then I could not pass
to meet me here –

highways once converged
along a lonely stretch of dirt
tis not the evermore
I wished to know –
but something more than whispers
more than markers made

chiseled as a rite into the stone
reminders of another me
a time before I came
awaiting there for signs
I couldn’t see