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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: woman

winters unforgiving ~

12 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

becoming, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, living, love, old maps, reason, relationship, restless, spirit, strength, travel, truth, wandering, wisdom, woman

came I here before daylight
alone with this sunrise
to watch the world
made new again –
and brushed across
the sky

more than once
was here I stayed
and woke
beyond the light
to places I had dreamed of
remembered to the night

I wondered
long to chances passed
and turns of wistful fate
of beauty
still becoming –
and I a moment late

tho not the first
I thought to times
my faith was sorely bent
to paths I might have taken home
and roads of good intent

how many dawns
spent looking back
without power to change a thing
to winters unforgiving
awaiting proof
of spring

o daddy ~

09 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, cherokee, connection, destiny, faith, family, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, nature, old maps, reason, relationship, spirit, understanding, wandering, wisdom, woman

was the first
of many princesses –
given faith to wander
and drew the map
would keep me
to his hands

mirrored
by the light beyond –
peace beyond the passing
language of another life
here to understand

of choices mine
the birth to be –
within the chosen hour
and held the two together –
as destiny entwined

this mystery
becoming –
none could tell
and few could see
even those who know me well
are missing me

fearless heart
awakened
by rain upon the roof –
and signs beyond the edge
where night was set

hands to hold
within the still –
mere moments fall away
in giving back
of all I’ve loved
today

I wish you knew ~

06 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

becoming, bliss, connection, death, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, passion, reincarnation, restless, soul signature, truth, wandering, wisdom, woman

was a morning stilled
by dew to frost
steam rolled off a winter lawn
was there before
the sun woke up
I lay beneath the stars
at dawn

I listened hard
would comfort come
eyes closed tight,
my arms spread wide…
would I be blessed
to hold you still —
I spoke your name
and wept inside

I wish you knew
of thoughts unshared —
of love unspoke
my sore regret
for moments passed
alone and far,
I wonder —

will you find me
yet

a startled bird
a swirling leaf
a gentle sigh — as breath to skin

I sense you here
as warmth — the sun
is woke from sleep
to burn again

Author’s Note: For Brenda who watches every beetle
for signs of Ray, and for Ray who watches
Brenda. Until then…….it is so.

untangled ~

04 Tuesday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

bliss, dreams, faith, family, grace, life, love, reason, relationship, southern, spirit, strength, value, wealth, woman

apart from everything she was
tis more she sits for dinner –
and stays with me
beyond the early show
sweaters born
the scent of moths –
and gems beyond the sparkle
combs that never knew
awaited there

along a stretch of cypress
polished by a wish –
and caught up in the magic
of her eyes –
a fleeting smile
a flash of grace
before the twilight faded
and trapped as she
within the mirrored glass

memories
much more than most –
crystal jars and perfume
shaded now
by aging faded grey
perfect pearls untangled
by the loss of one
the other
and wrapped beneath a net
of window’s wear

decades since we noticed
her words were almost gone
ink displaced by tears
and linen worn
a tragedy of letting be
the music of her voice –
so very few
are left to know
her song

cedar boxes
and old shiftrobes –
blankets more than winter
left beside the hopes
of yesterday
powdered white
the morning comes –
in traces of gardenia

brushed to gold
the weaver’s paradise

yearning ~

03 Monday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

becoming, connection, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, life, love, old maps, passion, reason, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wisdom, woman

as mother blood
and sister time
wing and wind and water
come as one
with knowledge of before
was felt the same
has always been
 deep within the yearning
when writing down the ways
of every thing

inheritance
of living past
still uncertain signs
as black the cry
still rings above the blue
was blessing to the stone
bring to us
your holy stories –
our path to keep
was always there below

lest we choose
again as then –
tho still without believing
familiar clothes
were given us
to wear beneath our skin

as velvet scars
to cross the grain
where tender touch remaining
and nights
when e’en the dark
was pulled away

fearing not this loving ache
when turned from trust
to sparing
the pain to know
as knowing sometimes does

the same as first
you carried
with visions of forever
the sky would fall
and weeds would steal your sound

til every bed was dried
and ears forgot to listen
leagues to march
as wars
to break in two

rewritten to the memory
are lives we couldn’t save
buried now beneath the willow tree
and given none –
the name I speak
e’er the spirits linger
in keeping me with memory
words to understand

of lifetimes past
we were before
might the ink be lifted
to reveal another word –
beneath the word

written to a place
within the soul

mother blood
remembers now –
things we dare not say
sister time
returning us
into the love
we know

reminded of another ~

02 Sunday Sep 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

bliss, cedars, cherokee, connection, destiny, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, longing, love, nature, passion, relationship, restless, southern, spirit, truth, wandering, wilderness, woman

for a moment
of unspoken faith –
alone among the cedars
and dared my pen confess
of all I see

of light to split
the eager black –
a call to life somewhere
echoes ring of aches
upon the breeze

shadows shift
where spirits roam –
between the bear and afid
surely here –
the honey smells
of wine

where was I
when yesterday –
the need to find my keeping
when took to heart
a path beyond the pines

sweetly as a morning tear
I’m reminded of another
when once I stood
and all the world
was still

pages bent from aged bark
syllables grow silent
cast to words no longer spoke –
longing shall reveal

mists along an eastern ridge
where songs are being practiced –
nightbirds flee protection
by the sun

there as I was started
by these truths I knew before
turns with me to home
before the day
begun

dream of me ~

26 Sunday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

becoming, connection, dreams, fearless, grace, life, memory, old maps, reason, relationship, soul signature, spirit, star crossed, understanding, wandering, woman

In my soul
life remains unprotected –
by the ways
I have chosen (my own) –
and the wilderness
wandering
has turned now to stone.

I was walking
and waiting
years beyond lifetimes –
a place now surrendered
by longing to grace.
Forever alludes me
as time so unyielding
would make of us (one)
such a fool.

What is it now
that I’ve lost in translation –
a dream
where I dreamed all alone.
Another night passing
beyond what was fated
listening still –
might I hear you
somewhere.

Echoes rise
from silence unnoticed –
slow is the song
the lyricist loves –
strings that were mine
came a kiss.
I couldn’t hear –
wouldn’t hear
symphonies ringing –
you sang for me –
sang to me
such sweet lullabies.

Worn through the pages
pens without conscience.
Was there nothing
worth saying –
let me hear it (again)
screamed from the highest
mountains – cathedrals.
Listen –
(do you remember)
truth wills the wind.

When life is surpassed
a night without morning –
breath given back to the dawn –
Where will I rest
while I wait your returning.

Else I pass in my sleep –
will you then
dream of me.

two step ~

16 Thursday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

becoming, breath, connection, destiny, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, nature, passion, postmark, restless, spirit, strength, truth, wisdom, woman

sixty-five acres
on the edge of forever
east of the river
that runs to the sea
taking the last
of my reason held over
and eighteen more candles
left burning for me

when the first to let go
of unspoken promise
a cedar box laden
with white china dreams –
picture frames filled
with the illusion of magic
teacups could never
hold everything

twenty-one pears
and two dozen peaches
an orchard too small
for the plans I allowed
when nothing could stop me
the pantry was empty
crystal blue soldiers
(what’s stopping me now)

stayed up the night
til the windows were weeping
for someone (one more)
I was meaning to count
had I not been alone
when the record was started
for a lifetime (a moment)
of living too long

I cried and I cursed
begged for another –
and banged every door
on my way to the porch
made myself sick
with things I’d forgotten
in a place filled with ghosts
I can’t put away

lace to the lids
my grandmother’s curtains
ruined her linens
one night in the barn
wrapped in a tablecloth
bed facing heaven –
shared every secret
come true with the dark

where is the ribbon
you loosed from my hair
the color of twilight
and yesterday’s truth
was stored in my closet
in an old cigar box
with a penny I found
while looking for you

one step
and backwards
watch for the table –
eyes search the shadows
for somebody home
swirling and twirling
east toward the river

were not for the peaches
I’d already be gone

 

 

still life ~

15 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

compassion, connection, faith, family, fearless, forgiveness, forgotten, grace, kentucky, life, love, memory, reason, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wisdom, woman

nights bring the sound
of hands passing slowly
pull me back ’round
to the place I belong

small and remembered
for voices I’m keeping
in the silent impressions
of love I have known

filling the spaces
as my heart is split open
and names
one by one –
are repeated in time

for those never far
left behind –
in the scatter
stories unspoken
find their freedom
in mine

to sit with me now
as another dawn glistens
from knees to the cross
not forsaken –
their souls

stirring in grace
gentle hands fold together –
as sorrow finds beauty
in the voices
I hold

“While there is a lower class, I am in it; while there is a criminal
element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prision,
I am not free.” ~ Eugene V Debs

paper birds ~

14 Tuesday Aug 2012

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

becoming, cherokee, connection, death, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, kentucky, life, love, memory, nature, old maps, reason, restless, soul signature, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering, woman, writing

come at last an answer
to questions unremembered
as who you were for me
is nothing left –
ashes to be swept across
these traces of forever –
so sweetly now
the grey dove
sails away

heaven has no bounty
beyond my will to wander –
so gather me
as glories to your breast
raise the window
break the plate
burn the fields of clover –
but barter not the moon
that knows me best

was more to me
than kingdoms come
or something someone said
beg for once you listen
with your heart
the last of summer sweat
is threatening the harvest –
as soon the snow will rise
beyond the barn

turn the page
to evermore
curse the verses passing
evidence of something here
I should have given time –
my hands are moving slower
as sets the evening shade
– will surely reconcile
to take my pen

that is my way
twisted as these sashes
yellow apron –
daisy damp aginst my drum
pleads my soul confess –
the only thing
I know for sure –
is likely now to falter

what name shall bitter taste
upon my death

weave my ribbons
bring the vase –
but let the pearls be scattered
loosed onto the path
as I was one –
I go as rain
to thirsty roots –
dreams of golden harvest
e’en as waters rush
to touch the sun

carry me the way
as then – to places
without memory
still me with ten thousand
paper birds
cast me on the silver lake
and let my story follow –
the eastern breeze
shall take of me
your name

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Poetic Thoughts

Benjamin Grossman

Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic

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