between us ~

of places
most surely
forsaken by now
– I believe
they are waiting for me
remembered
the times
I walked with him there
– a sweet recollection
can never be free

from the soul
that is gifted
– the heart racing still
to remain at the first
when beginning to see
the light
from the road
– a path into dreams
where colors are kept
in remembrance
of me

. . .

blue this morning after ~

27 Monday Jan 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

breath, canada, connection, forgiveness, friendship, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, nature, old maps, poetry, reason, spirit, spirituality, star crossed, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

how sweet
the wind
returns the sea –
how blue
this morning
after –
is come for me
a promise
thru the gale

of longing
softly whispered
abide
within this night
come as breeze
to carry me
away

of thought
returned
as soul to soul
was reason
to deliver –
the dreamer
from the soft
embrace
of dreams

Author’s Note: A dear friend sent me this picture
today – a place not far from his home in Newfoundland.
The image was from the summer just past, a kiss
of breeze upon the waves. Thank you, Shea.

. . .

with thorns ~

23 Thursday Jan 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, cherokee, connection, death, destiny, dreams, faith, familiar unfamiliar, fearless, grace, knowledge, life, love, nature, old maps, postmark, reason, relationship, restless, southern, truth, understanding, wonder

of knowing
what is keeping
the heart
tied up
with thorns
– a place
beyond the realm
of sanity

moves this sun
to rising –
grieves the almost
moon
– another
one more time
I thought to go

pardon this
intrusion –
worry not your will
to names and dates –
maladies of stone
held apart
by living –
eternity as one
how it is I know –
where you have
gone

beyond the feel
of shadows –
crowded round
my steps
beyond the fence
– tis all
that I have left

of signs
unwelcome graces –
my once or twice
with you –
lines were crossed
– was nothing
I could do

but pull
a chair
and sit a spell
with verses
growing cold
– was here before
the words
were catching
hold

. . .

the almost lines of future lives ~

17 Friday Jan 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, verse

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

connection, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, relationship, restless, sacred intimacy, silence, sometimes, spirit, truth, value, wandering, woman, writing

once
in still
another wrote
his name
upon my soul
a lovely shade –
no different
than my own
cursive drew
across and through
back and forth
(remember)
the stiches were so small
I never knew

the almost lines
of future lives
the need
where grief would tarry
for never would
my story
love deny
dots and dips
and slashes –
longing curlicues’
are weaved
into the rhythm
of a sigh

. . .

the story goes ~

15 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, death, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, love, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, seeing in the dark, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, value, wonder

fragile falls
the eager first
to raise our hopes again
to fill the empty lines
ahead with verse
– a rhyme
tho none would notice
the way
I spoke your name
while tender
curved a hand
against my heart

souvenirs
are taken in
folded to the crease
memorized
as season –
year by year
til only one remembers
well enough
the story goes
of ways
the words were whispered
– now again

in the silent song
of morning light
truths are laid together
– a softer line
than e’er a rhyme
could touch

. . .

resolved ~

31 Tuesday Dec 2013

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

bliss, cherokee, connection, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, kentucky, knowledge, life, love, nature, new again, passion, poetry, postmark, restless, southern, spirit, truth, understanding, winter, wisdom, wonder

tiny pearls
were wishes made
one night before the summer
was rained upon
the meadow –
let me in
whispering a story
lived I not for long
chances took
and I am here
again

silent
spools the ruby red
feathers to the limb
while just a bit
aways
the blue
becomes
resolved to something
bigger
floating to the ground
swept beneath
the sleeping winter
dawn