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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: knowing

one telling too much ~

20 Monday Feb 2023

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

grace, knowing, life, lov, story, surrender, time, truth, voice, writing in the dark

a life
resurrected
for a moment like this
to find then of dreams
i survived
to remember my place
a smoldering flame
to recall
how your hand
fit with mine
a silence
made sweet
by the essence of voice
were so many things
left unsaid
flirts with my need
deserved of my touch
like a story
made over
one telling too much
i can dream
to remember
how it was just before
my window fell open
my heart
wanting more –
you were come
without wishing
hesitation forgot
to the way the world
curled
in my fingers

. . .

stars we counted on ~

11 Friday Feb 2022

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

birth of eternity, knowing, light, love, lovers, silence, stars, still

we were lanterns
caught in webs –
sparkled
with the dew
a righteous moon
made jealous
by the dawn
flames where wishes
landed –
near to places
once we lay
silence
falling stars
we counted on

we were sparks
within the heavens –
seeking love
we would
become

. . .

not yet done ~

09 Saturday Oct 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

becoming, knowing, life, love, memory, soul memory, when I've forgotten you

when I’ve forgotten
help me learn –
let my hands grow wise again
let these feet
recall the path
where love began

let my tongue
be resurrected by a name
I know by heart
let my touch
seek recollection
in your arms

when I’ve forgotten
let me love you
like the first
the last
the one
let me learn anew
the story –
not yet done

. . .

somewhere ~

24 Thursday Jun 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

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

. . .

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

. . .

to my soul ~

13 Wednesday Jan 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

friends, grace, knowing, life, love, memory, morning, seeing in the dark, stars, time, truth, universe, wisdom

It’s true that I have nearly 175 items in my WordPress draft folder, and on days when I need to, those provide a comfort or a kick-start to other words. I considered them first thing today, while I searched for the warmest socks in an over-stuffed basket. But when I got to my desk, I found something else, and there…..other words that needed no push in becoming.

I’m convinced that it’s not indigestion or a storm or anything quite so mundane that wakes me in the night. When it happens, I roll over, look at the clock and typically go right back to sleep. But not without smiling at the reassurance that I take in this simple (though some might call infuriating) occurrence.

While there are vast numbers of people who understand the complexity (and simplicity) of the universe, few put absolute faith in the fact that it is constantly working for us (almost like a personal assistant type of universe). That’s my ‘belief’ – that the universe is up all night trying to figure out just what I need and when I need it in order to make sure that I get it.

So, when I wake up at 4:08 and can’t be sure why, I am confident that someone somewhere has spoken my name. It’s also why sometimes at 2:03 a.m., I wake and speak other names. Yeah, I know you’re shaking your head (or some of you are). And that’s well enough, but you’re surely missing out on an amazing part of this life (your life).

But back to today. What you know so far involves socks and waking up at 4:08 a.m. Not too exciting even to a boring story.

But once I arrived at my desk, I had a message through messenger from a dear friend, who, in the midst of his two o’clock run from Houston to Dallas, was stopping for breakfast at some ‘hole in the wall’ diner just outside of Austin. And over eggs and coffee, he thought of me and wondered what my day held in store. His note came in at 4:12 a.m.

Think what you want. That crazy girl in Tennessee couldn’t possibly be onto something. But be advised that the crazy girl in Tennessee is definitely onto something, and likely has more help with life before she opens her eyes than you get all day from your not so ‘weebie-weebie’ sources.

In the meantime, my expectations for the day ahead just shot up, and I smile now, grateful for the universe, for Hank, and for places that serve hot coffee and fresh eggs when needed most. Somehow, even in the midst of crazy, the universe remembers what we prayed for and what we need most (even when we don’t realize how strong the need).

The universe remembers us home.

had I laid awake
a moment more –
to wish upon a star
called his name
aloud into the dark
gathered soft as morning
as light across
my room
surrendered to remembrance
these pieces of a dream
where I am still made humble
by the moon

had I drifted
as nightbirds
sang of trees so far away
of lifetimes
I have no excuse to know
to waltz
along the shoreline
in strands of blue and gold
to wake with sand
pressed sweetly
to my soul

. . .

maps we drew in darkness ~

08 Friday Jan 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

alone, brokenness, enduring, faith, ignorance, knowing, life, love, maps, refuge, sorrow, surrender, tears, truth

I’ve spent some time
in disbelief –
with years to wonder why
mornings washed
a flood of tears –
yet not a one to dry

not a one to
understand –
and ne’er a will to know
beds made up with thistle
and left along
the road

with none to share
who can say
they knew far better than
those who dream of dying –
who walk a broken land

who decides
and who condemns
the ways for which we came
with maps we drew in darkness –
hurts we gave
our name

. . .

burden wished ~

02 Wednesday Dec 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, verse

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

becoming, blessing, echoes beneath my skin, grace, knowing, life, love, memory, mystery, silence, time, translation, truth, understanding

tho I can’t swear
to each remembrance –
to what is truth
and what is mine
longing whispered into shadow –
became a prayer
of love resigned

I can’t say
of wonder started –
how much more the heart
can feel
of destinies
recorded –
burden wished
from moments here

I’ve no proof
beyond this silence –
which flutters soft within my ear
what remains
of truths unspoken –
promise
I alone
can hear

. . .

the map of kings ~

04 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

blessing, home, knowing, lessons, love, nature, purpose, truth, whispers from another shore, wonder

another time

what of days
my soul was dealt –
and sacrificed to wonder
the sparkle of each star
the river’s will
just how
the mountains shiver
beneath a blanket –
deep and cold
the way the ocean rises
another moon to know
I’ve learned the song
of nightingales
the cry of turtle doves
stood beneath
an ancient elm
counting rings
the map of kings –
making my way
to love

what of days
my soul was dealt

. . .

in a story one night ~

02 Monday Mar 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

breath, knowing, lifetimes, memory, moments, story, time, truth, without words

rememberedhere

did you write
of my touch –
in a story one night
did you dream
of these years
worn away

did you swear
every memory
was mine to infer
each promise –
as light
just returning
to day

is my name
but a prayer –
at the end of your life
my heart –
but a place
still to know

do you miss
me sometimes –
do your eyes fill with tears
when reflecting
on moments
let go
don’t let go

. . .

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Poetic Thoughts

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grandfathersky

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