24 Monday Aug 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
acceptance, angels, becoming, blessings, family, home, knowing, life, love, memory, self, truth, wisdom
of yesterdays
when I was five –
older yet than most
with eyes
pretending
no one
dared to swim
oceans bare
a fleeting snare
waves and wings
remember
of paths
already knowing
us to find
get me home
some other way
a dream beyond
september
hands to reach
across
into my own
. . .
11 Tuesday Aug 2015
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry
Most days, as I arrive home, I’m scanning the tree line, hoping to see one of three bunnies that live in my yard. They adore my abundance of clover.
The newest is just a baby. This morning, as I walked out before leaving the house, he emerged from beneath a pine, stretching as if I had disturbed his sleep. It’s the same tree where I saw him last night, as my headlights traced the edge of his ‘one of a kind’ bunny ears. Regardless of my day, I squeal with delight when I see him or one of the others.
They remind me of a truth far deeper than ever I could write.
I am a child of nature. There’s no other place where I feel as whole, as blessed. There are places I know of that seem to be as close to heaven as possible. The air is clearer, the pace a bit slower, and even babies stop their crying.
Every breath is one of divine intention, manifestation of a loving God.
I believe the hardest commandment to keep is the last – Thou shall not covet. I feel the need to confess every time I visit Millie’s port. I’m in total envy of her place in North Carolina. I imagine the cool dirt path beneath my toes, the soft shush of wind pushing bough against limb.
There’s a similar spot not far from me, where I cannot pass without stopping, sloughing off my shoes, and wading into waters surely as clear and cool as they were thousands of years ago.
It is my refuge, my recharger. It is home regardless of where I’m going or how long I’ve been gone.
it is here that I
understand
what was surely the
lesson
set deep in my bones
a voice
I remember
from a far distant place
was to gather me
home
a wanting so right
I could lay
side by side
with the stars
tracing back the journey
the ways we had come
returning of souls
unto one
creator of all
calls my beginning
none
no other the same
as the fate
of a sparrow
a silent recall
to the heart
we were sharing
another
one day
a lighted
cathedral
of cedar and spring
windows
propped up
by the night
here I am nothing
everything true
a melding of shadow
endeared to the light
memory given to name
beloved of heaven
writer of wings
breath I have tasted
as mine
is known in this
stillness
where I am begun
from a song
once the robins
were singing
so sweet
. . .
30 Thursday Jul 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
acceptance, assurance, blessings, destinies, dreams, endearing, forgiveness, gravel roads, home, life, lifetimes, love, seasons, time, touch, travel, warmth
of late
I’ve grown cold
to the ways of the world
bruised by the
easing of time
subdued by the splendor
of dreamless
intent
names rubbed away
by pieces of light
fixed to my window
by lacey white sparrows
winged past the
curtains
one night
as I lay
silent beside
the remembrance
of more
cursing the lessons
of love come before
a moment inclusive
of always
hands
O how lovely
they loved
. . .
21 Tuesday Jul 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
acceptance, age, blessings, conscious consciousness, divine this, forgiveness, gravel roads, home, knowing, life, love, truth, will
of moments
I’ve known
a path through
the tears
a faint recollection
of days unto years
poetry carved
as rings to
the wood
of seasons and reasons
tethered to place
come as a lover
of longing embrace
as nights without
slumber
whispers
to lace
silence the same
as forgetting
some other
another
of dreaming I knew
the weight of remember
was passing me
through
noonday and were you
to hold me
like this
as a moment of always
burned to a kiss
lest living
come easy
as light on the morn
as wake to the keeping
was love
to discern
. . .
20 Monday Jul 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
becoming, blessings, distance, divine, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, home, life, love, poetry, sacred intimacy, seasons, tenderness, time, truth, value
what name
was once you called to me
echoes o’er the storm
a distant light
unshaken by these memories
of home
a part of all that mattered
is forgiveness settled round
in tireless waves
the ways we were
before again abound
the sweetest blossoms
scattered
as breath in silence still
remains of wishes
traded
another place to fill
a lullaby forgotten
though not for comfort lent
as days I lost
ten thousand more between
counted from a distance
roads and stars
the same
paths converge
within the fault
of dreams
. . .
27 Saturday Jun 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
everything, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, hope, life, life well lived, love, prayer, seasons, soul, time, to places we are known, truth, will
sweeter now
the ache forgiving
of moments past –
surround me here
an ancient quilt
of almost whispers –
words of living
folded near
page to page
as wish to wanting
lives beyond the ones
we live
songs forgotten
yield in singing
love resounds
in all we give
let with grace
these truths repeated
til prayer becomes
a place of rest
warmed by faith’s
eternal season
known by love –
as love
confessed
. . .
11 Thursday Jun 2015
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry, Rambling
Tags
acceptance, as easy as breathing, beauty, blessings, divine this, family, forgiveness, gravel roads, home, knowing, lessons, letting go, life, love, nothing is ever lost, only, sacred intimacy, simply, truth, understanding
Try as I might, from time to time I need reminding (or, as my Ma Hutch would have said, ‘a skillet to the head’). I can get so caught up in the drama that I forget the bottom line. I neglect the one thing that matters most.
If there’s a rule by which my daddy lives, it’s simply this. “Don’t ever let a problem become bigger than a person to love.” He makes it seem easy, to be honest.
And sometimes, it is easy. Like when everyone agrees or we’re all focused on that single one brilliant thing that takes our collective breath away.
But most of the time, opinions get caught in the middle. Egos stand in the way. Perceptions about things that no one even witnessed – well, a lot of things get in the way. And before you know it, we’re arguing about whether it’s too early to plant watermelon or too late to start a movie.
And the thing (love) that was absolutely the most important thing is somehow ‘managed over’, reclassified into the ‘not so important’ file in error.
That’s not to say that love is forgotten (I love you; it’s the liking that hangs me up). It isn’t. It’s just a second thought, something taken for granted that never should be. It’s the lone footnote that should have been the title.
My mother meddles in things that aren’t her business. My sister struggles with demons almost 30 years old. My children and grandchildren have lives of their own, plans of their own. The moon turns a jealous eye, and before we notice, another season is passed – another time not to come again.
But if we’re lucky (so blessed), that thing that mattered (love) – it remains. When the voices are lost in argument, opinions have burned away, and the quiet settles soft like the snore of a sleeping child – it is there (still).
So, today, before I respond too quickly to an email or a text, I remind myself that nothing is bigger than my love for these. Nothing I will allow.
in fields
where yesterday
forgotten
petals crush the ground
with the memory
of every winter
frost
bring me round
one more time
before the blossom fades
let me breathe
the sweet perfume
of love –
was never
lost
. . .
10 Wednesday Jun 2015
Posted in perfect country song, Poetry
Tags
gravel roads, learning as we go, life, love, postmark, rural, seasons, song, wearing through, you'd think living in Nashville would be worth something
was ne’er the first
to let you go
miles on past the promise
you’d stay and I was
sworn to be your baby
a habit
sure to wear you down
a devil in a flannel gown
passions
more than one
to drive you crazy
boots and lace
the dream replaced
kisses not for keeping
but for these
old memories
things we might have said
as proof of heaven
here on earth
graces ne’er
so undeserved
a picture of a picture
on the dresser
of your soul
I’ll make a place
for your returning
dare I keep
these embers burning
reminders
I was sworn
to be your baby
. . .
08 Monday Jun 2015
Posted in Uncategorized
Tags
assurance, beauty, birth, connection, death, divine this, eternal, fearless, home, life, love, poetry, seasons, time
gathered
as the years
to watch
the sun ease
o’er the mountain
sparing not
these temporary
bones
this choice for keeping
everything
love was ne’er
for loss
e’en now
the dawn awaits
our welcome
home
. . .
05 Friday Jun 2015
Posted in Poetry, Storytelling
Tags
beauty, becoming, blessings, creation, life, love, nature, seeing in the dark, truth, value, wholeness, wonder
how vast the realms
of I confess
a portion of my soul
was scattered
silver seeds
among the stars
wished upon by dreamers
awakened by the night
a canopy of stories –
with thread
the same as mars
smoke that stills
the canyons
before a raging storm
is captured to
the mirror I am holding
in my arms
eyes in shades
of abalone
words I know by heart
are whispered
by the sailor –
carried by the sea
backwards to a moment
unremembered
overheard by sparrows
sharing secrets
with the dark
. . .
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.
Poetry about Life, Love, Music by Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet
~ journey of a rose scented ink ~
Just a little poetry...
View my worlds
The fears of a girl, the heart of a woman, and everything inbetween...
Flared and prepared.
Just a cup of poetry and cookies
A Discovery of Enlightening Insights, Information, Humor, Writings and Musings
Motivate | Inspire | Uplift
“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” — Maya Angelou
Thoughts and feelings made into words about the world and times in which we live ...
Making a connection when everything is connected
tornadoday 