but for me ~

09 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

Tags

breath, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, memory, passion, reason, relationship, soul, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

on this rainy dawn
I am barefoot on a narrow stone
looking out through eyes blurred by emotion
seeking an unknown part of my past
and a place I must have known
would find me here

with no one yet to answer
but for me the purple buds are tempted
another week to stay

sorrow comes easily
as in the counting still –
of friends he seems
more willing than the rest
to listen as my heart concedes
I knew not when to break
or what of verses uttered now
would yesterday
forsake

silent
raindrops
welcome my tears
a hundred times – of listening
volumes unconfessed
across a lifetime
separated –
mourning
words of love

. . .

Author’s Note: My grandpa, D. B. George
June 13th – 45 years since they told me you were gone.

inscribed ~

09 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

becoming, cherokee, conscious consciousness, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, old maps, passion, reason, seeing in the dark, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

was more than knew
ten thousand times –
a child
for love –
a promise
revealed to one
before the veil removed
but for the light
remembered us
a flame
of consolation –
words inscribed
as reason to the soul
miracles
are more than just
a story
told again
of days erased
before the dreams
began

. . .

pull of hearts ~

08 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, cherokee, faith, grace, gravel roads, healing, hearts, knowledge, life, living, love, mystery, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, silent beauty, southern, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, value, wildflowers, wonder

tempered now
the pull of hearts
as one into the beating
became of oceans
rivers down below
as moonlight
on forgotten fields
where wild
the blossoms swimming
are held as one
without an eye to see
or soul to sense
their mysteries
much deeper than the seed
a solace of surrender –
where breath becomes
the breeze

. . .

more sacred than the stars ~

05 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, conscious consciousness, conversation, destiny, dreams, fearless, grace, gravel roads, home, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, mystery, old maps, passion, reason, relationship, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, unremembering, value, wonder

she said
the rain is coming
there are letters on the porch
sorrows sweetly pressed
against the trees
I know this wind
from lives before
a portion of me still
is whispered by the mountain
to the sea

he said
but for the dawning
I’d slip into the night
and leave behind a rumor
I was here
settled in your warm embrace
my head against your heart
tempted by your hands
into the light

she said
there’s something deeper
than ever I could tell
a mystery
more sacred than the stars
wills the sun to rising
with stories of the night –
where I am still
and you –
the way I know

he said
there was another time
I held you tenderly –
tho where and when
I’ve lost a part
of me
he said
it doesn’t matter
were this the only one
a moment stretched
between eternities

. . .

proof of you ~

04 Wednesday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

bliss, breath, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, life, living, love, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom, wonder

moments kept
of living past –
a stone for each
somewhere
a keyless lock
tied with paper cord

o careless soul
what proof of you –
as smoke into the wasting
ashes cured
to make a place
for love

a narrow bed
against the wall
can hardly feel the light
tho rumors are
of one who burns
for me

. . .

yellow paper dreams ~

03 Tuesday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

becoming, conscious consciousness, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, life, living, love, nature, old maps, passion, reason, restless, spirit, understanding, wandering, wisdom, wonder

I met you
on abandoned roads
where no one goes but friends of mine
are keeping up pretenses
for how it used to be –
swore to never say your name
but when choices came
I called you up
once or twice wondering
how you managed
just to be
the sweetest of a time
forgotten now

I met you
eastbound and northern
on trains that never touched –
but passed within a shimmer
of yellow paper dreams
on rails that sighed in my voice
stretched beneath
and miles beyond
ten thousand giant cedars
wing’ed ones –
remembered us to
song

I met you
on the coming back –
a story for repeating
you said you knew me
when
you knew me how
held as one an august night
as gentle rains
descending –
morning broke
in dust and smoke
its creamy winter skies

. . .

early sign of fall ~

02 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, faith, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wandering

the trees
have shed their blossoms
– an early sign of fall
was here we walked
once hand in hand
and never spoke at all

of plans beyond
the drifting –
beyond the moon’s embrace
were moments
we would carry
into grace

a page or two
of history
as need
untouched by time
remembers not
the parting –
a breath as yours
or mine

. . .

one kentucky (after all) ~

02 Monday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

breath, conscious consciousness, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, kentucky, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, relationship, spirit, spirituality, strength, truth, understanding, value

I’ve seen my share
(was home to) bluer pastures…
seen fences (rusted wire),
barns that rose from ashes
to the stars…
I’ve lost it all
beneath the blue
Kentucky (fell one summer…)
but still I see the stains
upon my fingers…
(the smell of winter hay)
will always be,
without the need for getting
over —
Was not a hurt (awaiting)
to be healed…
a moment to be filled
with something more…
There’s no need
to carve another over this –
tis only one
Kentucky…only one
as this within my heart,
the weathered barn….
(sleeps with warm tonight)…

Wasn’t love the same
yet I’m amazed
at those (who raise the match)…
would seal the scars
with tar and bind their eyes
from looking back…
Would deem all memories
(the same)…
and deep within
an emptiness (holds the only proof)
here love was kept…
a house no longer furnished
(piano no one plays)…
Names are never uttered
lest the pain become renewed…
tis a ritual
of painting (over everything)…
til truth is nothing more
and nothing (just the same)…

Only love remains –
one Kentucky (just as blue)
moments kept apart –
restored to pasture…
(september sun)…
Stars were never less
for their shining…
never dimmed (into the black)
on which they burn…..

The bluest grass
still grows beyond the
meadows (I can see)…
and love
will never be a place
to get beyond…
Forever (both)
become much dearer
(initials carved in wood)…
poems penned to leaves
(the scent of maple)…
a key returned
the tender world (of me)….

. . .

Author’s Note: Time is an arrow, and yet (yet) some words
stay with us longer than others. I’ve likely written thousands
of things in my life, and this remains one of those most dear.

candlelight ~

01 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

connection, faith, family, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, relationship, self, southern, spirit, truth, value, wandering

sweet
the song of southern tea
a somewhere
heaven found
reaches loving fingers
to the porch
as low the evening
shutters
in swarms of honey bees
as nightbirds
bring their babies
back to home

crickets
raise their fiddles
in perfect melody
beetles crow
a language almost gone
alone as one
cicada
forgotten when to sleep
hovers near a mem’ry
of flight

june bugs
curse beyond my sight
in search of mid july
another world
becomes
of candlelight
the sure embrace of summer
lanterns take to wing
a message passed
to stillness
we both know

learning
sometimes lets me in
for hours
I can’t speak –
as silence lays
in whispers to my skin
dreams are spent
awaking
another hush tonight
as bare the drum
of anxious feet
to board

…

For three years, I’ve searched for a screen door – a gate worthy of keeping my porch. Seems simple, I know, but not so very. I didn’t want new, or unused, or unloved. I wanted warped and scarred, squeaky and rusting, a handle polished by a lifetime of love, of leaving and coming back ’round.

Today I traveled to the area known to me best, hills and dips marking the edges to my first heaven. A general store with dirt floors, and the ghost of an old register and blue horse writing tablets. Down the way, an old house taken over by weeds. But, o……….so much more! And there, fastened still to falling porch, my door. She’s been waiting, and I’ve been patient.

Now, well surely the story writes us whole.

your only wish ~

30 Friday May 2014

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, Poetry

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

bliss, breath, conscious consciousness, faith, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, sacred intimacy, spirit, truth, understanding, wisdom

blues
and purple clover
spilled beneath my skirt
as intimate
the weave
of earth to sky
rings of more
than one could keep
a memory of light
– lacey pieces
scattered on the lawn

time
revealing everything
we never meant to say
and yet
for this –
I sit so long the night
wrapped within
your only wish –
once before was fell
to where I wait
in shadows
of your sleep

breathing
eased
before the dew
can rise again
to wing
before the cricket’s song
the swallow sings
of heaven
o thy sleepy eyes
speak so lovingly
of ancient rite
and nights
of evergreen

. . .