Tags
becoming, bliss, breath, connection, death, destiny, faith, family, fearless, forgiveness, grace, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, reason, restless, resurrection, self, southern, spirit, spirituality, truth, understanding, wisdom
were our story
without ending –
the road would lead us on
forgotten not the turning
or the fall
reminders of eternity
wink and they’ll be gone
hands to hold –
and one to change
it all
eighty years
or sometimes ten –
a garden loved by thorns
a rusty metal rocker
hides the shade
baskets stained by picking
weeds to bind the fence
bees are telling
every plan
we made
a worn out
sunday prophet –
folds his bible near
tho none can read the name
it used to hold
leather bound by promise –
love would get us through
trees are bending
double
in the cold
I been down
and got back up –
to know
(I know) of love
of seasons undecided
by the light
of passing into paradise
to live beyond these days
gardens yield for tending –
somewhere sweet
tonight
. . .









