fated ~

05 Thursday Feb 2015

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, spirit, strength, truth, understanding

how much have I
this world to cleave –
a passing glance
or verse
some wayward call
I’m coming home –
a place
I’m known
for leaving

a silver sky
of fated blush –
and thorns
I’ve learned to love
pages writ
and I for one
returned

finding now
the same as then –
a forest blooming rare
– a way
where only I
the story knows

shall make again
a sense in all
with reasons why I go –
lights where
some are burning

to fill the path
below

. . .

curved against the clay ~

29 Thursday Jan 2015

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

bliss, connection, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, home, kentucky, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, restless, southern, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering

for a while
before I knew you well
were ways I walked alone
lonely nights
curved against the clay
lullabies
to only self
of sometimes stories knew
of places I was going
everywhere and
faraway

beyond
the reach
of one more rise –
one more bitter chill
a sacrifice remembered
in my bones
an aged need
to fill my gut
crooked boards and wine
a place beyond
these places
I am known

where once I stood
on tender soles
and watched the dream released
above the lake
in whispers soft and clear
a breath
I scarce remember how
a moment all the same –
turning back the night
to find you
here

. . .

envy not dreams ~

23 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, connection, destiny, faith, grace, home, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, strength, understanding, wandering, wisdom, wonder

winds
are the same
as once held my secrets
returning as breath –
a season
of trust

stars watch
the path
was made of my wishes
centipede
honeybee
briar
and dust

words
taste the same
as e’er they were
spoken
made sweeter for lives
the silence between

souls bear
the proof
of paradise traveled
a way without squander
would envy not
dreams

. . .

resolution ~

02 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, spirit, truth, wonder

returning
this journey
of soul unto days
crisply
the red autumn leaves
sleep neath a blanket
of sweet evergreen
dreaming a
snowy white bliss
stars
fell away
by the reaching to touch
a name e’er repeated
as grace before dark –
tears before
dawn
made of breath
only this

. . .

unto light ~

31 Wednesday Dec 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, home, knowledge, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, relationship, sometimes, spirit, still, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

for a moment
beginning
tho no one knows how
love becomes memory –
a faraway
flame

silence is tempted
to speak
of our loss
scars nearly faded
are remembered
by name

a tenderness
forged
by the ways we have come
returning our soul
as truth
unto light

sealed from the trading
gifts us again –
folded as prayer
as wings
into flight

. . .

angel light ~

28 Friday Nov 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

bliss, cherokee, connection, destiny, dreams, grace, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, spirit, truth, value, wandering, wonder

of places
this reminds me
of some other
you were there
do you remember
how the stars
were in my hair
when you lay
in moss beneath the night
was I your angel light
a kiss I keep
reminds me this
of you

. . .

trace ~

26 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry, Rambling

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

becoming, connection, destiny, dreams, faith, family, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gratefulness, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

daybreak wears
a yellow dress
longer than july
and wonders to the boys
with woolen hands
summers gone
and one more ring
was promise to endure
the golden age
the turning page
resigned

by one
was I another
slept beyond my prime
cursing at a dream
for letting go
held in place by whispers
dare I make the bed
and worry then
for where my pen
was laid

fingers trace
the only proof
someone locked the door
a name for places
I can scarce recall
a life before the living
let of me to leave
photographs
and what of then
remains to be
again

swept beyond
the reaches
of a faraway resolve
some other dream
remembers me
to home

. . .

remains ~

23 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, conscious consciousness, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, love, magic, memory, nature, poetry, reason, spirit, spirituality, sweeter now, truth, value, wonder

winter pulls
against my boots
(carry me away)
to plant my dreams
where now the wheat
turns grey
smoke
above an evening (rest)
lives I must have known
are gathered sweet
memories (to stone)
a verse
or two –
(remains of sins)
nurtured by the spring
ashes fall
(snowflakes) whispering

. . .

ache ~

10 Monday Nov 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, restless, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering

of aches
I’ve come to know
too well
of lazy sunday mornings
when tempeted by a dreamer
back to bed
took no regard
for lessons –
a preacher’s silent rants
of destinies approaching
flowers in my hand

was almost none
to matter
a place where I was not
a fleeting stare
of sullen disregard
for sins already offered
confession getting cold
eyes on the horizon
a place
to weight me down

where once a storm was rumored
warning me of tears
the morning pulling in
across the pines
afraid for days beyond the next
firey passion slept
warm against the longing
sunday kept

. . .