Tags
becoming, bliss, breath, connection, death, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, old maps, passion, postmark, reason, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

was a time
before illusion –
a time to wonder why
– tho maybe
I imagined
every whispered
lullaby
a bliss –
the same as breathing –
of the same sweet air as I
is held
within the silence
– within the penance
of a sigh
tis all the same
I see that now –
but what of dreams will know
when death is come
my hand to still –
was faith
for loving so
this tepid trust
these lukewarm tears –
might distance
mine erase
as echoes of forever
draw me nearer
to this place
where once I knew
and once I lived –
a house just down the hill
is tortured
by the turning back
– a lifetime
waiting still
what prophet gleans
the past resolved
as moments we allow
would suffer time
as wondering –
where love remains
somehow
for one more time
restored to touch –
one kiss when life is passed
one heaven here –
I knew it well –
shall grieve my soul
at last
. . .








