Tags
familiar unfamiliar, hands, home, life, love, memory, time, truth, whispers from another shore
30 Wednesday Dec 2020
Posted Poetry, spirituality
inTags
familiar unfamiliar, hands, home, life, love, memory, time, truth, whispers from another shore
14 Monday Sep 2020
Posted home, Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling, verse
inTags
another life, breath, find me home, hands, journey, life, light, love, memory, mountains, nature, reasons, stars, truth, walk me home
in another place
I was –
crushed beneath the shadows
bowing down my head
chasing truths
do you remember
how it was –
the giving in to silence
as the echo of ten thousand
tired boots
a night succumb
to whispers –
a morning without shame
lights beyond the highway
burning sand
do you remember
was I with you
when the mountains
fell around
as waters rushed
to fill an empty land
I know you now
as I knew you then
another life
with nothing changed
this sweet goodnight
bathed in light
is reason
why we came
. . .
13 Thursday Aug 2020
Posted Poetry, spirituality
inwill fate decide
the coming back
familiar though it seems
to find anew your hand in mine –
trading words for rings
how surely now
my heart is stilled
by the thought of letting go
longing wears a favored gown –
becoming all
I know
a fleeting smile
and lifetimes fade –
at the memory of your face
moments cleft from heaven
are evidence
of grace
08 Wednesday Apr 2020
Posted Poetry, spirituality
inTags
hands, jealous moon, life, love, prayer, promise, spirit, words without words
a whisper
come from somewhere –
a prayer divides the dark
a buried deep
reminder
of something
someone said
held apart
together
hands becoming hands
lifetimes left
for telling –
wordless words
instead
. . .
07 Tuesday Apr 2020
Posted home, Poetry, spirituality
in29 Friday Jun 2018
Posted Poetry
in25 Tuesday Oct 2016
Posted a time for telling, Poetry
inTags
hands, home, light, love, redemption, sacred intimacy, seeing in the dark, time, truth
created I
another me –
love I might have known
a dream
(so close)
the touching
never slept
in sheets
ten thousand thread
or more –
who was I to tell
of roads I walked
long –
with dirty soles
to learn again
the truth became
hands to fit
(my own)
paths where none
were gifted
save one
to take me
home
. . .
28 Sunday Oct 2012
Posted Poetry
inTags
becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, fearless, grace, hands, life, love, nature, old maps, passion, restless, spirit, star crossed, truth, value, wandering
tis not for warmth
these hands are folded –
or curved to catch
the morning light
moved as silent birds to daybreak –
across and with
each sweet delight
was not for grace
or prayers unspoken –
steeple pointed toward the sky
felt the sound
of angels gathered –
just beyond the reach
of I
beyond the pool
of secrets spilling –
kisses rise from words the same
breath was given rhyme
for telling –
loving wings these hands
became
the dreamer’s map
of north star guiding –
someone asks (as someone knows)
what of hands
were made for speaking –
what of words
we meant to hold
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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