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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: sharing

secrets to your skin ~

14 Wednesday Jul 2021

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, verse

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

breath, forgotten, life, love, moments, secrets, sharing, silence, skin, trust, truth

in the pause
of grey November –
bluest feathers
ashes fell
into secrets
I remembered not to tell
lest they soar away
pearly blue
wingeds seeking flight
floating into echoes
all can hear
will another sun
be realized
things I whispered there
written to your skin –
upon your soul
will I remember silence traded
when I’ve forgotten
every word –
will love become
the only voice
I know

. . .

eyes of the heart ~

29 Wednesday May 2019

Posted by tornadoday in a time for telling, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

acceptance, forgiveness, here am I send me, homeless, journey, life, love, moments, path, sharing, soul, spirit, story, truth, what matters most

Most every day, he is there.

Sonny stands on the exit ramp with his dog (Miss Peabody), dependent on hearts that often can’t see him, eyes that rarely meet his.

He has become my friend. I speak to him anytime I’m on the ramp. Sometimes I offer him a bottle of water, a newspaper, a sausage biscuit (for Miss Peabody), or some spare change. I enjoy talking with him, and he has told me more than once how much I mean to him. Miss Peabody rests her head on my window while we talk, likely grateful for a few moments of air conditioning.

sonny

A week ago last Friday, as I pulled away and into traffic, I realized that I had not mentioned my plans to be on vacation the following week. When I traveled the same road that afternoon, I looked for him but he wasn’t around.

The week passed, and yesterday morning, as I approached the top of the ramp, I saw him. I had never seen him in such a state. He was sitting on the guardrail rather than standing, holding Miss Peabody at his side as he looked toward the ground. He didn’t even look up, and just as I stopped, the light changed.

I rolled down the window and hollered, ‘wake up, Sonny’.

His head jerked and he was immediately on his feet waving his arm, all the while juggling Miss Peabody and laughing…

I haven’t talked to him since returning. This morning, someone else had reached the ramp ahead of him and taken his ‘spot’. Regardless, I expect I will see him soon.

We can never know the impact we have on another’s life, or how the size of our own heart can alter the size of another’s. I only know that Sonny blesses my life…..and I think I bless his.

How easy to forget that we belong to one another. Any concern too small to be turned into a prayer is too small to be made into a burden.

let me know
when you are going
tell my heart
that it be spared
from the ache
that finds you missing
left to mourn
for moments shared
I will grieve
until you find me
carried by your presence home
to a place
that is our passing
lest we ever
walk alone

. . .

lives before I knew ~

28 Friday Jul 2017

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

destiny, home, intimacy, journey, learning to live, love, memories, one in our togetherness, sharing, strength, treasure, truth, worth

almosthomenow

of time
I’ve held my measure
moments
(o so fine)
lives
and lives before
I knew
(remember)

pages
of a color –
words
(my favored few)
all I hold
is holding (still)
another other
truth

come
as winter softens
by the light
(a softer glow)
for memories
to gather
(from the cold)

of roads
we thought (forever)
a coming back
enough
for a moment (touching
heaven)
time becoming
love

. . .

why am I here ~

17 Thursday Nov 2016

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

beauty, gain, grace, knowing, life, loss, love, path of understanding, sacred divine, scars, sharing, truth, wisdom

closerhereAs of late, I’ve thought of how much I wanted to share a story, but then the same thing happened – time (or rather a lack of it) got between me and the page.

But yesterday, something happened that moved me to make the time. As I was entering the parking garage near my office after work, I heard something – a low moan. It was so sad, and in retrospect, I should have known what it was before I got there. A month or so back, a lady I work with lost her husband, quite tragically. Since then, I’ve talked with her a number of times and provided books, a full body hug, and assurance that we don’t grieve what we don’t love, yet surely love is worth the price.

She was sitting in her car with the window down and, quite literally, howling. I’m certain a number of people had come that way and been immobilized by the sight of such anguish.

It would have been easy for me to do the same. She hadn’t seen me and traffic lately has been horrendous. She would have understood. I, on the other hand, might not have. I would have reflected long after I began my drive home, on what I could have done differently.

Why am I here?

It’s such an easy question, but rarely is it easily answered. However, more and more, I find that simply posing the question can lead me to choices with little room for regret.

Regardless our place of arriving, there are truths, actions and consequences that directed our path. What I’ve come to understand that even false actions, half-truths and unexpected consequences can bring us to a place of healing, gratitude, and wisdom. Perhaps it’s a fool who believes all things happen for a reason, but I don’t mind saying that some of my greatest lessons were the result of bad decisions. In many a darkness, I have realized the light I held within – that couldn’t be lost. What I view as my real beauty are my scars, the places made stronger by the breaking.

And it is those same things that allow me the willingness to move out of the ‘receiving line’ and into the ‘giving line’. In that line, I’ve come to understand that receiving is most abundant to those unafraid to give. The measure of what I’ve lost to what I’ve gained is unparalleled. Just when I think I couldn’t possibly love more, another day comes – and I do.

Why am I here?

I’m here to make the world a little better. Even in my brokenness, I can do that. I can listen with something other than my ears and feel with something other than my checkbook. I can fill a night up with gratefulness for a moment offered only to me.

The garage was growing dark as I held her, allowing her to cry into me, the sound somehow made less by the sharing. She looked at me, smiled as tears flowed, and asked, ‘why are you here?’

‘I’m here for you. Tell me a story.’

for days before
I found you here
years without your name
to warm my lips
a prayer I couldn’t raise
was mine to speak
of pain I knew
was never mine to keep
a darker night
where once I passed
miles before you came

. . .

arms not as long ~

09 Monday Nov 2015

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

abundance, angels, beauty, blessings, enough, family, home, love, sharing, truth

Camera360_2015_9_8_060358

I was an only child
for a year or two –
selfishly taking of kisses
a moment or more
wouldn’t matter that much
until another was come
to arms not as long
with eyes the same shade
of carry me home

How soon disregarding
a half distant drum –
and tears
once cried just for me
nights where the pillow
held no allure –
dreams I spent walking
alone until dawn

Spied from afar
a trembling flame –
shadows cast over
the lawn
mandolins playing
where have you gone
as I ran ahead
into love that was mine

. . .

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Poetic Thoughts

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Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic

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A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

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