somewhere ~

24 Thursday Jun 2021

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

. . .

mornings turned away ~

30 Friday Apr 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality, Storytelling, verse

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

it's what I do, love, naked truth, poetry, spirit, story, time, troubled, witness, writer

tell them I was haunted
by the sound
of swarming bees –
drifted on a ring of
cedar smoke
ask for their forgiveness
lest they speak of this again –
last I knew
you were the only one
to know

how deeply
I am troubled
how hard the verses fall
tumbled as a sigh
upon the sheets
offered up as penance
for mornings turned away
daylight pressed
against our every need

you can tell them
I went mad –
tore every curtain down
set the barn ablaze
one Friday night
was while
you lay sleeping
on the floor beside our bed
burdened by the words
I couldn’t write

. . .

whene’er you sleep ~

01 Monday Mar 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

choice, do you remember, ghosts, it's what I do, life, love, memory, need, poetry, silence, sometimes, time, when I close my eyes, whispers

in the mellow
afternoon
where you sit
the day alone
fumbling with your papers
with your keys
images replay
every time you close
your eyes
she waits you know
in dreams
whene’er you sleep
just beyond
the memory
of just beyond the trees
music plays
how much louder must
it be
to obscure the loss
erase the cost
how much
before you answer
the silence
of your need

. . .

faraway ~

05 Friday Feb 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

broken fences, easy as I, enough, faith, gravel roads, home, it's what I do, life, love, memory, time, writing in the dark

come the morning
of redemption –
city lights
to fade your doubt
for every time
another came
and I was left without

breath no longer easy
was a plead for me
to stay
tho I couldn’t hear
I wouldn’t hear
words you’d never say

for every life
you promised
another perfect place –
an empty barn
a broken fence
memories retraced

to kiss this ground
and cleave my heart in two
been buried
more than once –
beside the river
next to you

shadows slide
on maple floors
while someone that I knew
remembers me
from other times –
a lover passing through

the worst is done
the right made wrong –
and who am I
for asking –
will the crops be gone
before the frost
is come

faraway
so faraway
and where we’ll be
worth telling –
city lights
are faded now
to places faraway

would stay the sun
and block the path
from taking more to pay
the bills tomorrow
bargained for –
with love so far
away

. . .

the way ~

10 Tuesday Nov 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

blessing, easy, grace, home, it's what I do, life, love, nature, smile, something here, the way, truth, without words

how many times
I’ve cursed
the slamming of the door
a backward glance
with nothing more to say
I’ve left my fears behind me
praying you might find me
some other time
you’d steal my breath
away

stay
that I might learn you
from all the things
you love
– the way you feel
the way you laugh –
the way you speak my name
sometimes I can’t but wonder
of another life
we made

morning spreads
her golden wings
as I lean upon the gate –
anchored to a life so undefined
tho not for this you tarry
something here won’t wait –
I love your smile
as sunlight
through the pines

. . .

ways I cursed ~

06 Tuesday Oct 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

blessing, hope, it's what I do, life, love, seasons, spoken aloud, time, truth, wonder

when at last
the wind is gone
and all the seeds dispersed
when comes a night
so cold it fills
my bones
will then
I cease to wonder –
do you understand
me now –
the ways I cursed
when first you came
and I was found
somehow

burst as bloom
returned of spring –
one april day I woke
found you there
with ne’er a word to say
who knows
how long
forever takes –
where and when I’ll find
the seed I let
to go
just yesterday

. . .

crush ~

21 Friday Aug 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

age, blessings, brave enough to die, courage, faith, home, it's what I do, love, seasons, time, truth

are there roses
where you planted winter wheat
I had that happen
once
when you were here
it came as no surprise
that the frost
had nearly gone
when briars pushed their way
despite the fear
I recognized
when first was held
at mercy to the pain
but couldn’t bear
the thought of letting go
ashes fall in autumn
just when the weeds turn brown
tis there I grieve
for love as none –
as tears within the snow

. . .

letting ~

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

almost always, breath, destiny, it's what I do, life, love, sometimes, soul speak, truth, willing me home

repented

she worried
o’er his story –
wept most every night
heard his songs
long after
he had played

she made her bed
but dared not rest
she woke within a dream –
was there she found him sleeping
peacefully

her destiny
a reason meant
for letting go
for letting in –

she came for but one touch
and he was saved

. . .

getting on ~

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

destiny, get me back, heart, home, it's what I do, life, love, memory, redirection, seasons, time, truth

morning come

I’m getting on
with redbud
and whiskey –
somebody told me
a tale
just today
somebody mentioned
a path you’ve been taking –
and I’ve gone
out of my way

to find you
uncertain
on my way here –
a life just beyond
somewhere I knew

I’m getting back
to a time
of beginnings –
to a season held captive

moments
too few

I’ve no regrets
no bitterness wanting –
no plans for another
some other
to find

I’m getting on
with sure redirection –
missing myself
– your heartbeat
with mine

. . .