21 Wednesday Aug 2019
Posted in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality
beyond the fretted edge
of want –
are stories worn by time
moments bent to longing
– by promise undefined
I cannot say
or will the words
for fear this ache
would chafe my soul –
with verses I’ve forgotten now
truth I used to know
sans the parting
once we shared –
mornings wrapped in dew –
I woke to find
I’d dreamed beyond
the memory of you
. . .
21 Wednesday Aug 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality
Tags
blessings, life, love, poetry, seeing in the dark, song, soul, spirit, sweeter the life, time
in the midst of all that matters
least
the sound of pen to page
of breath into an open dream
wings within a cage
a fleeting song
of one to find –
others feel the same
of moments passed within the veil
– love we know by name
. . .
26 Friday Jul 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality
Tags
allowance, dreams, forgiveness, home, life, love, memory, remembering, solace, spirit, the way, time, touch, truth
quite
I don’t recall the way
so weary –
or the sunset
quite this bright –
curtains drawn
to keep the world at bay
as ever still
tis loved and well –
as I am sure one truth remains
to satisfy this longing
within my heart’s
refrain
what of years
lay stretched behind
dusted now –
forgotten when
will come a dream awakened
o, what will matter then
. . .
02 Tuesday Jul 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality
Tags
dancing, dream, embrace, life, love, ocean, quietly, rescue, seasons, silence, spirit, sunset, tides, time, truth
whisper
of an ancient tide
I pulled you from the sea
on winter sands
we laid our plans –
before the moon denied
the sweet embrace
of storm to lace
remember
do you feel
the lure of waters
wading
back into the deep
where once you found me
drowning
near shores you dared
to dream
. . .
27 Thursday Jun 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling
Tags
acceptance, breath, disappearing fathers, family, fearless, home, life, love, memory, seasons, spirit, time, understanding
A friend shared this with me on father’s day.
I wish I were the author.
I wish I didn’t know what the author speaks of.
Disappearing Fathers
by Faith Shearin
Sometime after I turned forty
the fathers from my childhood began disappearing;
they had heart attacks during business dinners
or while digging their shovels
into a late April snow.
Some fathers began forgetting things:
their phone numbers,
which neighborhoods belonged to them,
which houses.
They had a shortness of breath,
the world’s air suddenly too thin,
as if it came from some other altitude.
They were gone:
the fathers I had seen dissecting cars in garages,
the fathers with suits and briefcases,
the fathers who slipped down rivers
on fishing boats and the ones
who drank television and beer.
Most of my friends still had mothers
but the fathers were endangered, then extinct.
I was surprised, though I had always known
the ladies lasted longer;
the fathers fooled me with their toughness;
I had been duped by their jogging and heavy lifting,
misled by their strength when they slapped
me on the back or shook my hand.
I kept imagining I would see them again:
out walking their dogs on the roads
near my childhood house,
lighting cigars on their porches,
waving to me from their canoes
while I waited on shore.
. . .
11 Tuesday Jun 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling
how long the night
the rift between sighs
a pause in my telling
as dreams reach the light –
years spun to verses
youth into gold
habits restored –
for another to know
by the way they break bread
a story unfolds
tales left (for)telling
as breath
to the soul
. . .
29 Wednesday May 2019
Posted in a time for telling, spirituality, Storytelling
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.
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
. . .
01 Wednesday May 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality
Tags
angels, death, destiny, dreams, everafter, home, life, love, once I knew, promise, spirit, truth
beyond the pull
of everafter
the want for one more day
when the fated morning after –
burns to ash
and drifts away
I will be
the one to find you –
whene’er this life we leave behind
promise once resolved
to leaving
another way –
another time
. . .
29 Friday Mar 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality
Tags
acceptance, knowing, life, light, love, perception, remembrance of another life, shadows, spirit, stars, truth, understanding, whispers
I knew you
in the nothing –
in the breath before beginning
where living turned to shadow
to speak of other truths
I knew you
as a whisper –
fell while I was sleeping
a gathering of clouds
against the blue
I knew you
as a wishing –
a star by heaven tethered
a blanket neath a canopy
of dew
I knew you
as a night bird
come to me in slumber
a messenger of promise –
an evermore
come due
. . .
15 Friday Mar 2019
Posted in Poetry, spirituality
Tags
blessing, holding on, joys, life, love, memory, remembering, spirit, summer vines, time, touch, truth, understanding
in your eyes
enchanted summers
late night strolls
beyond the vine
serenades
we thought would spare us
from these willing webs
of time
. . .
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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