hope, nature

Dreamers

Dreamers

By Carmen H Gray

“Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.”-Langston Hughes

I cannot stop thinking

About Leon, aptly named thus

For he was proud as a lion

And fierce, too

Or Daisy or Rosa, both like flowers

With minds blossoming into perfection

I cannot stop thinking of how they came back to me

Years later

As teenagers and humbly asked me

“Maestra, will you vouch for me?”

I helped grow those beautiful souls

They are part of me and I am part of them

Some of them are going to be scientists

Or already are

And have discovered how ill we are

That we did not know what fortune fell upon us

When they came to us

As Dreamers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

nature

beautiful

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“Not knowing when the Dawn will come,
I open every Door”-Emily Dickinson

beautiful

by Carmen H Gray

Have I ever told you

That your curls are currents of cordial light?

Or that your eyes are the stars themselves captured

From an abundantly dark sky night?

Your smile has sent a comforting diversion

To many a friend in need

The sweetest bow shaped lips give way

To processions to yet proceed

And still, the greatest allure lies

Beyond these fair favors

Gifted to you by heaven itself

Beautiful you, creations and creators

 

 

nature

Four Petals of Gratitude

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Four Petals of Gratitude

by Carmen H Gray

Two pair of delicate edges

Symmetrically aligned in globe clusters

Every production of nature

Holds its tiny geometry

Four here and four there

You make heads turn

With your sky colors where

Eyes are lucky to behold you

Meanwhile, your gallant green companions

Stand back to give you more applause

As you coyly acknowledge the world

 

letting go, living, nature

e=

e=

by Carmen H Gray

What shall I write today? I asked

When e= were the two keys my fumbling fingers

Had accidentally pressed into the keyboard

I looked at those symbols

That took up empty space

Energy equals mass

Even when that mass is deathly quiet

The resistance used or wound up tight

Every particle just pushed and changed

Like wood in a pyre

Energy equals you and me

And random thoughts on a blank page

Stars and that tiny piece of glass

That got stuck in your heel

Like sharp words that got

Stuck in your heart

All of it can change and shift

And it shall because

It will

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

living, nature

A Soft Cosh

“Above the cloud with its shadow is the star with its light.”
―Pythagoras

A Soft Cosh

by Carmen H Gray

Two ends meet

Where one side

Is congruent to the other

Twin sides feel

The heavy pull

Bringing the center point

To the same place each time

Whether it be

The delicate silver chain of today

Or the mauve-colored silk string of yesterday

It falls upon you

Hyperbolic

Each time

 

letting go, living, nature

Motherhood

Motherhood

by Carmen H Gray

Spots of blood that were a scare

I was full of milk and longing

For sustaining little lives belonging

In all of those early sunshine days

Of playfulness

Of exhaustion, too

And the middle years

Became filled with tears and cuts

The broken hearts

The diagnoses of the starts of illnesses

That had always lingered quietly inside

Like a spring that hadn’t yet been let to fly

And when it did

It was as if I was woke

To the world anew

The hardships grew

The steps I tripped

The moments slipped

Was I fit? For Motherhood?

How dare she be

So flawed and free

Doesn’t she know better?

Why can’t she stay as she was forever?

Contained and clipped

All neat and zipped

I heard some asked

The false smiles masked

The bullshit stationary yearning of others

I am not monochromatic in the realm of mothers

I am wider than one frequency of light

To pass on more

Than what was before

That is what those breasts knew

And that womb that held them, too

It was what my soul understood

Before the future layers of motherhood

 

 

 

 

 

 

letting go, nature

Left

Left

by Carmen H Gray

What’s left?

In the hemispheres of life

Where everything has been divided

The kid glove of yesterday

And rosemary scented concoctions

The sticky spices of today

Stewing in tomorrow’s brew

What’s left?

When the pitty pats and tippy toes

Have left their well worn socks

In the corners of your heart

For mending, when it’s far too late

For such frivolities

Oh, time, you are a clever trickster!

What’s left

Are the comet’s tail,

Solar winds pushing

Particles away from the mother source

Brightening, as they sail closer to the sun

A gasp and a sigh at such a sight

Of what is left in the darkest night