falling past ~

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sweetly

for moments
still to wander
backwards into time
beyond the first
memory of sound
of love
within the quiet
a liquid lullaby
how swift
returns the coming back
to lie beneath
the pines
void of all
transgressions –
the ghost
of waiting cast
eternities
are held a breath apart
where once we fell
into this dream –
another falling
past

wishes past –

what melody
the maple sings
against the morning rain
strummed beneath
the whispers
to beat the branches
low

i wonder
could you hear me
though lifetimes
lay between
the moment gone before
and this we know

before i felt
forever
was saved
of wishes past –
stars already fallen
from nights
i loved you so

. . .

light through the window ~

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always

As of late, it seems I struggle with words.

No, that’s not right. It’s not a struggle really. It seems more I am resigned to a place unfamiliar (and yet not). It is a quiet peace, perhaps even a place created by grief, but not unwelcomed or uncomfortable.

It is a time of adjustment, acceptance, and clarity ~ a period of understanding that I have wondered might be related to aging, loss, or faith. Regardless, it is not cursed or filled with anxiousness. It is an unexpected blessing, a realization of grace, of love.

I miss my daddy, but it is not an ache that leaves me restless, looking for answers that I already possess. Rather, it is the little things where I find myself wishing he could share it with me (just before realizing that he does). When I round the curve on the road home and notice a group of more than twenty deer in the field near the woods; in wings fluttering along the fence line as I tend the feeder; a light through the window when I awake to the sound of my name.

Blessings.

Time is nothing but an invisible marker, a thread binding us forever to a moment – or rather binding the moment to us so that it is always the same, as near as our next breath. Ours.

We are never without love.

. . .

a deep shade of night ~

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hold

I painted my walls
a deep shade of night
floors –
the essence of sun
I slipped through the shadows
and ran through the weeds
out past the places
I remembered
undone

every dream
unpretending
to be as before –
times I swore not to sleep
anymore
lest truth
find me drifting
in realms beyond this
moored to forever
– cursed by a kiss

another one day
tis my fate to recall
how my tears
just beginning –
were destined to fall
as rain
to the flowers
bloomed in my stead –
as rivers of somewhere
roll ‘neath
my bed

. . .

it won’t feel like Christmas until ~

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thesmokies

You’ve heard it before. It seems everyone is asked to complete the sentence from time to time – even as the final moments sneak by on Christmas eve.

I personally love the answers. Some wait for a certain movie to play (It’s a Wonderful Life, my favorite) or they wait for snow, the first Christmas card, a call from across the miles. Regardless, for most, there is a trigger that pulls them (sometimes kicking) into the spirit of these days.

Last weekend, I spent an uncomfortable amount of time at Home Depot. People were beginning to think I worked there. In fact, I helped one lady by pushing her cart to the registers.

And while I am rarely without the Christmas spirit (even in June), I was losing my taste for home renovation options!

But as I was searching for the appropriate aisle for molding, I realized the music had changed.  O, they were playing Christmas music, albeit most of it was what I refer to as ‘retail’ Christmas music. But then, on the aisle between hinges and paint thinner, it changed – Joy to the World began playing. It was only the music, but I recognized it immediately. It was enough….

I’ll admit that I am a terrible singer (and a worse dancer), but I couldn’t resist. I began singing and the more I sang, the louder I became, and the more I felt Christmas cooling in my bones.

From one aisle to the next, I sang……..the first verse and then again (the only verse I knew for certain the words).

Since then, a co-worker gave me a tiny picture frame ornament; another, a sand and driftwood candle; and still another – a new birdhouse (guess they’ll be moving out of the grill), feeder, and ten pounds of wild birdseed.

Just this morning, as I made the turn beside a church on my way to work, two does stopped in their morning walk to watch me (hey you).

I feel it everywhere, but right here (pointing to heart) the most. It’s in all I do – hope, faith, family, angels, my daddy, the Smoky Mountains, evergreen, music, and love (always love).

Christmas is come………and I was home!!!

Merry Christmas to you. May your heart be filled to overflowing.  Joy (sweet joy) to the world!

Evermore,
Bobbie