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tornadoday

~ …might I be found in words I leave behind

tornadoday

Tag Archives: wonder

essence of longing ~

13 Tuesday Oct 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

life, love, mystery, nature, seasons, soul memory, the way, trust, wonder

tempt not these eyes
with lust for the river
dried to my feet
by the sand
cursed as I might
the azure blue mountains –
for trust
I was want
to withstand

a blade freshly carved
from a goldenrod meadow
bends round my finger just so
imparting a mystery
my heart
deems to wonder –
on lives polished black
by my soul

I am mist
gathered places –
the essence of longing
as breath come to blush in the spring
oceans are pining
for one more forever –
a page washed away
as I dreamed

. . .

ways I cursed ~

06 Tuesday Oct 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, spirituality

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

blessing, hope, it's what I do, life, love, seasons, spoken aloud, time, truth, wonder

when at last
the wind is gone
and all the seeds dispersed
when comes a night
so cold it fills
my bones
will then
I cease to wonder –
do you understand
me now –
the ways I cursed
when first you came
and I was found
somehow

burst as bloom
returned of spring –
one april day I woke
found you there
with ne’er a word to say
who knows
how long
forever takes –
where and when I’ll find
the seed I let
to go
just yesterday

. . .

never mine ~

18 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

blessings, grace, life, love, offerings, time, truth, what we keep, wonder

into grace

of these
small bits of wonder –
how many shall I keep
how many shared
beyond this fragile sleep

what bliss
was come to give away
what joy
was ever mine –
held the daybreak
years before my time

what laughter
lingers sweetly
as music down the hall
– poetry
I never knew
at all

never mine
else love become
anchored to a place
fell from these
two hands –
into grace

 

. . .

the map of kings ~

04 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality, Storytelling

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

blessing, home, knowing, lessons, love, nature, purpose, truth, whispers from another shore, wonder

another time

what of days
my soul was dealt –
and sacrificed to wonder
the sparkle of each star
the river’s will
just how
the mountains shiver
beneath a blanket –
deep and cold
the way the ocean rises
another moon to know
I’ve learned the song
of nightingales
the cry of turtle doves
stood beneath
an ancient elm
counting rings
the map of kings –
making my way
to love

what of days
my soul was dealt

. . .

memories of memory ~

07 Thursday May 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

another me, emily, life, longing, love, magic, memory, mystery, rambling, romance, sometimes, time, wonder, writing in the dark

Medicine-Woman-Seeking-Solitude-1915-courtesy-Library-of-Congress

whatever was
so misconstrued
how was I to ever
hang my heart on magic –
endear my trust to lies
whatever loss
might I confess
to moments
so enduring –
as those who came
who left without goodbye

should history
remember me
to something less
romantic –
a purple bruise
beneath a jaded sky
scripted as
a sleepless night –
burdened by my longing
with memories
of memory –
and ne’er a tear
to cry

. . .

crush of stars ~

22 Wednesday Apr 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

amazement, just so, light, love, magic, night, skies, southern, stars, summer, time, truth, wonder

nearme

I remember
distant summers
by the creek
beyond the fence
I loved
the feel of falling –
the crush of stars
against my skin

some nights
the eastern sky
comes aflame with strange
blue light
yet so clear
as though a river
took to flying

. . .

golden ~

29 Sunday Mar 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling, verse

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

beginnings, breath, connection, destiny, fearless, forgiveness, grace, kentucky, life, love, moments, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, southern, spirit, strength, touch, truth, understanding, wandering, wonder

memories

as the essence
of remember
floating golden thru the trees –
fingers reach beyond
the midday sun
fumbling with moments
love forgot to say –
sunlight swirls
in feeling just begun

silence wraps
the weary heart –
promise wears us down
with memory of places
yet to be
quiet proves a slow refrain
of stories never told –
verses fall
into the years
between

musings o’er the reasons
and wondering
the pause –
what of life and where
the leaves are blown
swept on dreams repented
by the way we hold the words
bittersweet –
the flight of love
unknown

. . .

than e’er I thought to lead ~

11 Wednesday Mar 2020

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, Rambling, Storytelling

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

honor, it's what I do, life, love, pages, purpose, rambling, stars, story, submission, time, truth, wonder

saved me

what mirror mine
as daylight breaks
with pencils
once I wrote the sky
forgiving of a moment
I was lost
I was freed –
of ink I never thought
to care
assurance never mine
a stronger hand
than e’er
I thought to lead

pages
lined with story
let them change
as I have changed –
retelling of the past
another me
somewhere
this remembrance
though not for fate
to let
papers split the light
as falling
leaves

. . .

I am forever grateful that my life be told with pencil rather than pen, with moments still undecided by the stars.

 

best ever ~

04 Tuesday Dec 2018

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

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

bliss, connection, faith, family, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, old maps, postmark, reason, relationship, spirit, strength, truth, wealth, wonder

Just this week, a friend told me of the start of a new tradition within her family wherein each member shared their best Christmas memory. Even in recounting the experience, tears filled her eyes as she spoke of her own, and those shared by others. There were moments of sorrow and others sweeterstillof pure joy, but eventually, they all became the best memory ever.

How is it that we’ve forgotten that? To know that every sorrow wears a coat of joy, and every bliss is but a warning of grief – a missing of the sweetest part? And yet, when measured into the same overflowing cup, they become the best – again and again.

She asked to my best memory ever and I think (partially) it was dislodged from my heart by her telling, but it is one of joy and family……….the best ever still.

Tho we didn’t know it at the time, we weren’t rich. My family of six lived in a two bedroom trailer until I was twelve. Then we moved into a castle of three bedrooms….. 🙂 The memory recalled is from the ‘castle’. Every Saturday was the same. One by one, my brother and sisters would wake for some reason and make our way to my parent’s room, my parent’s bed. Until we were all there, telling our dreams, torturing and tickling, and eventually deciding on breakfast.

But Christmas was another such time. My brother (who by virtue of the fact that he was the only son, had his own bedroom) would sleep in the girl’s room. We’d all pile into one big bed (or it seemed big at the time – tho I suspect it was no more than a full-size). I’m not sure we slept at all, but during the night, with every little squeak or bending of board, we’d speculate that Santa had come around. My brother was the designated outlook for us, and he would sneak down the hall to spy on the living room………and then run back to the safety of us to report. There was no understanding that it had to be five o’clock before we could get up. The only restriction was that we couldn’t get up before Santa had arrived.

closerYears later, I have heard stories of how long it took to get all the presents under the tree*. Between wrapping, assembling, and playing with all the toys – it was their joy we were most anticipating I think. Even now, at Christmas, I imagine the sound of little boy feet running down the hall…….. ‘he’s here, he’s here’………..

Let us keep Christmas forever in our tiny hearts, remembering things little as big. Let us keep love through the sharing of stories – creating anew every best memory.

* My Chatty Cathy doll was almost worn out before Christmas, and a promise to get a kitten for my sister resulted in an unexpected run to the country – and a cat that nearly brought my dad to stitches.  In the telling, even more sweet beautiful tears.  My dad comments, ‘we didn’t know just how good we had it’….  Then he winks, ‘yeah, we knew’……..

wake me home
some other year –
beyond this life surrendered
fall to me the places
I have known –
save for me
a little room
with not much more
for leaving –
arms to fill
wake me now
to home

. . .

Author’s Note:  One of my favorite reposted as a reminder.

days forgotten ~

03 Tuesday Jul 2018

Posted by tornadoday in Poetry, spirituality

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

blessing, fleeting, life, memory, nature, precious every one, seasons, time, truth, wonder

dew

when are
days forgotten
as dust against the blade
as dew –
a gentle rain
against the night

I can’t get back
I won’t get back
in time to see it passing
a fleeting moment
swept into the light

. . .

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