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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: healing

places we were one ~

27 Tuesday Jul 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

forgiveness, healing, jealous moon, learning, life, love, solace, ties that bind, touch, truth, words

I hated you
I hated me
places we were one
the way my body
listened –
times I should have run
wrapped in my uncertainty
injured by your words
I hated you
I hated me
as every dream unfurled
pages lost to pages
ink spilt blue
black
how may times
a window there –
while I was looking back
hopeful for another
prepared for one more
fight –
a jealous moon
I hated you
for finding me
each night

. . .

years from where we started ~

25 Wednesday Apr 2018

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

comfort, divine knowledge, healing, heartbreak, intimacy, knowing what we know, life, love, memories, returning home, seeing in the dark, truth, understanding, youth

home

before as now
the same as then –
do you remember where and when
the world was new
but so were you
awake to
understanding

afraid and stilled
at finding truth
was never meant to lessen youth
or ease the heart
tho torn apart –
resolved the soul
to hurting

only love
can calm the storm –
years from where we started from
reminders of a time before
calling us to love once more –
cured only by
the aching

. . .

by now ~

27 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

alzheimers, deeper than bones, healing, holding on, life, love, missing, nature, remembrance, safe, truth

Medicine-Woman-Seeking-Solitude-1915-courtesy-Library-of-Congress

You’d think by now
I’d remember…
what words were said (that day)
How many lives
could we have passed
were lost along the way…
I’ve wandered long,
the same back roads
were there before (but when)…
I’ve walked in fields (I know)
where once we loved
(when love began)…

I’ve watched another sky
we watched (was younger then by far)…
Before the whole world watched,
we knew the moon
(we knew the stars)…
Were moments we would lie
awake…(for just a moment more)…
would cling to every
shadow (we became…)

what promise I could make
(I’ve made before)….

For all I know of seasons passed
there’s others I believe…
I may not have the words,
but there is proof…
(I couldn’t leave)…

I have these hands…
you cried into…ten thousand
nights ago…
A world of songs (and I
would always listen)…
(the only) one to know…
between the melodies…
I yearned to hear the lullabye…
the same as mine…
I have the proof
(of reason)….
(here am I)…

Was evermore
I thought had passed…
…mere words (it seems) have not…

…you’d think by now
I’d remember….(this)
what my soul
has ne’er forgot…

Another moon…
another lifetime (pulled away)…
will then I search for
evidence…
these paths (I recognize)…
a somewhere (soon)
as words became..
the least of love (to prove)
will then I find (as I have now)
the truth…within
your eyes….

Author’s Note: I feel some sense of obligation to note the
inspiration for this piece. I visited with a family member recently
who suffers from Alzheimers. Although there are many whom
should be remembered, at times they are not. Yet, without exception,
and for reasons previously unclear, I am received with
a warm and genuine smile.

I do not believe that it is my physical presence that
causes such a response….rather, I believe it is a recognition
of love. I may live long past my dearest memories, but know
I will (always) recognize love….

sewn together ~

04 Wednesday Nov 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Storytelling

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

acceptance, angels, blessings, family, healing, home, life, living, love, seeing in the dark

reminders (2)

Yesterday afternoon, I spoke at length with a friend in California. It’s been almost 30 years since I worked for her husband, George.

Two months ago, George stumbled while mowing the yard and subsequent check-ups found him suffering due to an inoperable tumor, brain cancer. He’s not likely to make it through the week. But for a little while, we laughed and I shared stories of what a bear he was to work for at first. How could he have known he had met his match when he hired me, that his gruff exterior would be worn away by a girl with different beliefs and hand-me-down boots?

It seemed to fit.   This past week has been a time of extreme tenderness for me. My father was moved to a hospital near to my house, where he stayed for more than a week as doctors worked to rid him of an infection that was not only hindering his healing, but negating his ability to communicate effectively about what was hurting. Whispers couldn’t be interpreted and many a tear was shed over something that might have been nothing – words no one could understand.

And there was laughter as well – an evening when my father recognized neither me or my sister, and surely fell in love with both of us as we cared for his aches and washed his tired eyes.

Writing has been something on my mind, but left to the margin of most of my days.

Early one morning, I scribbled on my hand as I sat upright beside my daddy’s bed, listening to his breathing, my breathing….the same.  But by the time I got home, the words were gone – worn to grey, and lost to the illusion of sleep.

Yet, I knew what I wanted to say, what I knew was mine to tell….that this is our treasure. These moments, regardless of how fragile they might seem, are the very threads that sew us together.

A well-meaning friend recently commented that when his father was ill, he had to ‘limit’ the time spent with him, and I wondered how in the world that was possible, and why in the world it would ever be a consideration. What blessings are negated for the comfort of a tv and a remote control……

Surely, we are always wishing for better days, for healing and hope and longevity. But at the heart of living is something deeper than what we know – that this one shining (glimmering) moment is divine, and all we have assurance of.  We cannot expect even one more day or one more morning when the fish are biting and the air is cool, when the mourning doves scuttle across rusty tile, and truth shines through our window as bright as the day we were born.

So, when it comes, in clothes we do not recognize and eyes deeper than the sun is blue, let us not look away for even a moment. Let us never be fooled into believing that tears are anything less than glory, reminders of love we cannot lose, joys we have held closer than the stars.

This is our story, our forever, our inheritance. When all is gone, this is what we have. Time when nothing else mattered but the warmth of a hand in ours, lips that whispered our name, and the quiet still just before dawn.

This………o, yes………..this!

gather now
the aging wheat
and lay the seed aside
so that the sun
will dry
these tears again
tend our hearts
within the joy
we knew would come this way
mornings left us
sleeping
side by side

how could we then
have known of this –
of other blessings come
of stories yet untold
I listen now
to hear them mend
a tired soul
reminders of the road
miles before and someday
here I’ll be

bless these willing hands
forgive me
let me take of all
I am

. . .

evergreen ~

10 Monday Aug 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

acceptance, blessings, divine, forgiveness, gifts, giving, grace, grief, healing, introspection, joys, loss, love, meek, nothing more than this, seasons, time, truth

 

knowmenow

As of late, I’ve been criticized for being distant, quiet, unavailable, aloof, and downright selfish.

My southern grace pushes me to apologize, but the part that is protective of me – my hurts, my heart, my silence – doesn’t feel the need to say I’m sorry, for fear it will be seen as an opening door – an unwelcome intrusion into the private world that is me.

Experience has shown me that it is a fragile line which divides time I need for myself and time I gladly sacrifice for others. Perhaps that’s why it’s so noticeable, since most of my time is spent on the sacrifice side of the fence.

Years ago, I was going through a rather traumatic time, and I didn’t share it with my family. Some likely saw that as selfish, and yet, it was a difficult period and my focus needed to be on myself. I’m certain (still) that if I had shared it with others, my role would have changed into being one to helping them to get through it. It’s also possible that the shift in focus would have been good for me, even if it came with the cost of certain burden.

Sometimes (selfish or not), it has to be about me. And sometimes, it is in these times that I realize those who love me most – those who allow me whatever I need (even – and especially when – it is at odds with what they would prefer).

Thank you for allowing me the gift of oneness, the sweet rapturous void of nothing…….. ❤

what time remains
as once we gathered
shadows of the sun
hands were folded
soft into
dreams we dared become
a fallen spark
of ancient light
some other
might have been
moments held
within the space
of one

evergreen
and miles to go
home before we knew
a garden bloomed
from seeds
of yesterday
a path
not one remembers
a distant
passing through
remains the same
as these we loved
blessings to repay

nights beyond
when all I dreamed
was you

. . .

sometimes (waiting to be) ~

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

acceptance, comfort, destiny, divine this, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, healing, home, intimacy, living, love, sometimes, soul, truth

findme1

I’ll stay
here beside
if you start the fire
from pieces remembered
the same
another so cold
you thought I was leaving
back through the days
undecided
I came

led by a dream
fearful of nothing
but the loss
of your warmth
in the night
the feel of your whisper
echoed in silence
returned from the edges
I waited your light

to save me
from something
darker than death
deeper than sorrows
I’ve known
the way your smile shines
when you wrap me
around
a moment of tender
willing me home

where love is made
welcome
by a hand holding mine
promise
waiting to be
forever surrendered
just before dawn –
a kiss
then another
remembering
me

. . .

burns like whiskey ~

03 Wednesday Jun 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

angels, assurance, beauty, brokenness, choice, compassion, connection, depression, family, fearless, healing, hurt, letting go, love, tenderness, wholeness

solace

in the breath
that was
an unborn child
a shadow
o’er the sun
ancient waves
crashing to the sea
echoing surrender
tears as silent rain
while wishing
fell asleep
against my soul
courage
burns like whiskey
when all the nights
are long
dreams denied
the sanctity
of home

. . .

Author’s Note: Recently, my heart has been laid open, working with someone I love (dearly) to address old hurts, old pains, scars beneath the scars. Depression wears thin across the same old lines, always taking more than we had to give.

tethered by remembers ~

03 Wednesday Jun 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

becoming, blessings, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, fearless, grace, gravel roads, healing, life, love, memory, moments, seasons, signs, soul, story, touch

smokymorning

pardon
my reflection
on moments
such as these
a place and time
wherein we are
the same
tethered
by remembers
stories into one
another life
from living held apart
as gentle
arms surrounding
breath against
my ear
constellations
gathered us around
was ever
there
the way returned
to learn of love
anew
forever rings
a silent
I love you

. . .

listen ~

29 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Rambling

≈ 25 Comments

Tags

becoming, conscious consciousness, death, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, grief, healing, knowledge, life, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, restless, sorrow, star crossed, strength, truth, understanding, wandering

rememberedhere

on this sweltering dawn
I stand barefoot on a narrow step
looking out through eyes
blurred by emotion
seeking an unknown part of my past
a place I must have known
would find me here
with no one yet to answer
but for me
the purple buds are tempted
another week to stay

sorrow comes easily
as in the counting still –
of friends he seems
more willing than the rest
to listen as my heart concedes
I knew not when to break
or what of verses now
would yesterday
forsake

silent
raindrops
will comfort me now
a hundred times – of listening
volumes unconfessed
across a missing
separated –
mourning
words of love

how long this day
in coming
was there time before this loss
I can finally begin to recite
in an almost whisper
ten thousand volumes
of verse I never shared
and let my heart beat steadily
the celestial rhythms
of mourning
and show you the depths –

sentiment
hidden for the lifetime
that has separated us

. . .

pull of hearts ~

08 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, cherokee, faith, grace, gravel roads, healing, hearts, knowledge, life, living, love, mystery, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, silent beauty, southern, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, value, wildflowers, wonder

beautyuntouched

tempered now
the pull of hearts
as one into the beating
became of oceans
rivers down below
as moonlight
on forgotten fields
where wild
the blossoms swimming
are held as one
without an eye to see
or soul to sense
their mysteries
much deeper than the seed
a solace of surrender –
where breath becomes
the breeze

. . .

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Poetic Thoughts

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