Tag Archives: relationship

gathered in me ~

21 Tuesday Aug 2012

Posted by in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

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Was not the first
I’d come again…
reeking of woodsmoke
folded near inside my shirt…
names that should be new;
the taste of somewhere else
triggered in the calling.

Silence (clinging) feels the same
a sweet familiar love –
remembered all the reasons
why I left…
to come again
pulling at pieces
truth exposed –
another piece of cloth,
clothes that fit me (still…)
I’ve walked the house once we built –
shaded by the orchard —
Planted small,
and grew into the barn…

Now both
are gone, and I (unaware)
possess the only picture
of how it was…
the broken yard and crooked gate,
cattle nursed by a patch of
weed (and will…)
a swing of mismatched
boards…slouched below
outstretched arms
an oak —
your father planted
(your mother cursed)…

Was there
we loved…
(as no one ever had),
feather mattress
stuffed and stitched (new)
for us, and wrapped
in sacks of blue…
We spoke in hushed whispers
(secrets tumbling)
to the flicker of a flame
burnt the mantle black —
shadows melted (moments)
long ago
(but not so) far…

finished
before the start became
an end was writ…
I never understood…

in the quiet still
before I find you (first)
I breathe,
The world
that I remember…
is again…
a feather swept
(across) my soul;
words uttered to silence;

this –
memory of yet to be
and the smell
of burning pine…

deliberate pause ~

20 Monday Aug 2012

Posted by in Poetry, Storytelling, verse

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Walking beneath stars at dusk,
doves coo (quietly) to one another,
songs only they (of dove wisdom) can understand…

and I wonder at their (selfless) lament…
What (can they whisper that) I do not know?

What invisible mysteries
do the waves instill — crashing against the cliffs…
(who can tell me)
what secrets the rain confesses to the violet dawn,
is its suffering (made) lesser
by the crimson sunset?
Is there a place (we’ve yet to find)
that waits under evergreen canopies of silence…
atuned to (the cry of) rainbows…
or is that for the poet (alone) to know….

Ten thousand paper birds
(without the heritage to) become feathers…
but still they drfit…tangled not (by expectations)
no tears for tiny fingers
(that pried) their inanimate bones…

they’ve yet to understand
they cannot soar…
and (so) they do…

Can the only secret (worth discovery) be
that a simple morning song…
bellowed atop (a twist of) cooper line
is more (precious) than a symphony of perfectly managed notes…

and that love needs no reason (to be)
(undone by questions — why not)
beyond a moment’s (deliberate) pause…..

musing ~

18 Saturday Aug 2012

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take of these
my all
my every
thing I was before
no less
than who I was
when once you wrote me
word for word
to pages pressed

echoes breathed
together
easy –
who can say
which came as first
the choice to be
as fate was drawing
lazy circles
in the dirt

back this way
as forward falling –
dare me reach
to catch the truth
what was meant
of passing whispers
sighs were secrets
poets proved

lacey lace
and midnight wonder
round the round –
and tied with string
verses vain
as morning musing
rhyme returned
but not a thing

ages past and yet
another –
one more time
beneath the fall
stillness as a siren
singing –
through the night
one spirit call

get me back
or take me never –
more and more
the same and not –
where was I
when first you found me
lifetimes since
the pen forgot

stories almost read ~

17 Friday Aug 2012

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had I one more
grace to give
and not much more
worth keeping –
than roads I’ve come
to bring you love –
kneeling now in prayer

forgotten
every sorrow fell
grief beyond my season –
another dawn
is waiting me
lest I wander there

violet shades
of winter ash –
and canyons lit by longing
days to walk
and warmth we willed
to stay

as colors of the
sweetest songs –
winds the same as ever
shall free the lowly spirit
from the silence
of the grave

stir to voice
these fragile words
and give them place
to matter
save for me the mystery
of stories almost read –

stay the night
another life
that I might find your
wishes –
hanging by a prayer
beside my bed

promises falling ~

13 Monday Aug 2012

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are promises falling
the way of our tears –
was faith to remind us
of each passing year
as the paint on the ceiling
the rust on the well –
and long nights spent wishing
another to tell

of the ache in the morning
of lives barely lived –
love never meant us
this much to forgive
something more than the ringing
of stones to the tide
are ripples to roll
o’er the face
of the moon

leaning
as learning
of distance too soon
as the sound of forever
finds a way
to be heard –
as a breath unsurrendered
is willed into word

I can’t be the reason
to stay –
I won’t stay
where the fields are all empty
and dreams died away
tell me now quickly
where o where
will you go
will the wind wrap around you
with songs of your soul

when your purpose
needs tending
by the brush of a kiss
and want left unspoken
breaks your heart –
stains your lips

tell me sweet darling
are there plans we could make
while we lie in the dark
and dare not awake
our truth from becoming
the real from the rest
a somewhere forgotten –
a life unconfessed

I should never have held you
for more than a night –
such a small price to pay
for a lifetime of light
o darling
the ringing –
the sweetest of sounds
does it play where you’re sleeping
in moments unbound

reminders ~

12 Sunday Aug 2012

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twas not for me
to sacrifice
names denied their place
of lovers never knowing –
something more to me
than grace

the ways to home
so seldom clear –
as fate sometimes unfair
dreams are weaved to lockets –
ribbons for my hair

to share of these
sweet mysteries –
of questions yet to be
answers wrapped in waiting –
return as love to me

forgotten now
our reasons –
time was stopped by will to know –
wonder still surrounds me
when nights are long
and cold

reminders of forever –
few can borrow
none can steal –
of moments we remain the same
as first the truth revealed

a rush of breath
becomes my skin –
as voices haunt the dark
a love beyond
my reasoning –
awaits my eager heart

coming back going ~

08 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

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kept to these pieces
of coming back
going
living and dying the rest to define
one more get busy
and lived I
to tell it –
how strange seems the pattern
of meaning to find

the ends
of beginning –
for ways undiscovered
questions revealing
the answers to more
ways as were destined
to sleep the night
waiting
with boots by the table –
and back to the door

and knew not of love
kept me from leaving
as pieces broke off
a handle – a key
lines through the linen
threads of another
as once I was given
this time to foresee

as notes
to the margins –
words underlined
bled through forever
to find us again
to wonder of reasons
and names now forsaken
words without marker –
reminders of when

the past lay unbroken
as blue satin slippers –
worn down the path
I cleared long ago
where now
the night sits
at the edge of my wonder –
warmed by the memory
of light on my soul

dates long passed ~

06 Monday Aug 2012

Posted by in Poetry, Storytelling

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thought I not of turning back
to places of my own ~
how many names forgotten
are written now to stone
a night or two
a date long passed
survived by briar and sweat
eternity foreshadowed
by moments of regret
and stood I there
more times than told
to watch as prophets marched
from shiny limousines
with linen collars starched
without a tear between them
didn’t know of plans to live
or truth that went the way
of moss –
another to forgive
the coming home for more than this
than scripture without verse
lights returned the lonely here
as destinies rehearsed
as loving lips were robbed
of voice –
words to fall apart
asleep beneath the timbers
beside a broken heart

Author’s Note: Yes, I know, but there have
been times when I stumble upon old photos, and
wonder what I thought when standing there.

whispers ~

30 Monday Jul 2012

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start me now
another time ~
beyond the edge of waiting
as wisdom wills to reason
beyond the winter’s say

life within
this present tense
of all and still becoming
no other could confess of such
or know of time this way

of hands to fit with other hands
lines impressed to lines
and faultless now the lull
to pull us home ~
the change of light
to more than sun
against the startled morning
essence found in moments
‘fore the dew

such silence prone
to miracles
might change these mortal vines ~
and gather us
as lilies to the vase

care for me
don’t spare for me
a place within your garden
and pray my seed be scattered
to the winds

move aside these shadows
of dawn’s caress returning ~
standing down the trees
beyond the gate
circles drawn in echo
to the waters near the willows
returning all for love
we held within

silken touch of something more
than passing on the pathway ~
knowing of another time
we dare not speak of here
and yet without the words
were we inclined

to tell it all
so eagerly the stories
I’ve been holding ~
bittersweet their presence
on my tongue

perfumes thru the window
float ~
whispers of remember
as names denied a place
beyond the stone

but for the soul
within the soul
of rivers ~ living timbers
mountains mourn a moment
so divine

verses stitched together
by one heart another day ~
knit a shell of blossoms
undisturbed
ribbons to an autumn sky
write in words we know

held apart
the lowly bloom ~
refused to fade away