art, beauty, hope, living, moments, mystics, nature, time

Autumn

Art and Poetry by Carmen H Gray

Autumn

The clouds opened up in October

Fay beings in my garden

All of the old souls summoned from the cold, misty northlands

Landing hither and thither

On that one flower that overshadows me

It grew from seed, you never know what will happen

When you send seeds forth

Into their future states of being

One might become

The one that surpasses you

To stand in that hushed intermission

Of fluttering souls

All Soul’s ShadowSelves

On a steady path south

To a mountain where I have lingered in this lifetime

art, beauty, ethereal, mystics, time

Thou Art This

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art and poem by Carmen H Gray

 

Tenderly she rivers the night sky

With petals in place of feathers

She moves in body and soul

All strings and stars expanding

Impermeable and eternal

Creation cradled to heart

Beating softly in the enveloped song of Humanity

They are vast as the sky together

Wider than infinite time

Encompassing the yet to be

 

beauty, living, nature, poetry, time, writing

In The Garden of The Heart

“A fractal is a way of seeing infinity”-Benoit Mandelbrot

In The Garden of the Heart

by Carmen H Gray

I heard the soft sound of those delicate chimes

And suddenly I was there

Those warm springtimes

Walking, walking in my garden fair

The rosemary sticky with its scent

The artemesia silvery and light

No plant I touched was discontent

The proud lavender, standing upright

In that garden, was I there?

Were those days carefree before?

I wondered that as I lay here

Time is a revolving door

Nature’s fractals I have seen

In that garden where I stepped

The leaves outstretched and deeply green

A lovely place where I have wept

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

living, moments, time

My Son

Your Journey with Me

by Carmen H Gray

When you were growing inside me, your Great Grandmother and Great Grandfather both left this world on the same day.

I witnessed my mother’s mother’s exit, standing close to her and holding her hand. I looked into her fearful eyes and I said in my mind, “Let go, all will be well,” for she had reservations and was sad she would miss meeting you here. She acquiesced. Family gathered around her in the room my mother had lovingly created for her final resting place. We sang Amazing Grace to her spirit and my mother cleaned her body before calling the hospice staff.  Her body was tiny.  It was a beautiful and proper Tejano good-bye, with song and expression.  I was filled with many emotions, but the time to release them had to be postponed, because that same afternoon, my father’s father was also leaving and we all journeyed to his home next.

When we arrived, he was in the room where I had often played with dolls and my cousins as a little girl.  His wife was sitting next to him, holding his hand, and reassuring him of his peaceful journey.  She had always been the soothing force in all of our lives.  Most of my aunts and uncles and many of my cousins were all there.  Some, with their own children.  I watched my father cry and saw the tears of many of my aunts and uncles.  Some of them more English proper (stalwart, private in the emotional realm) than others, as that was how they had been raised.  When he left that afternoon, the house was burgeoning with loved ones and neighbors.  As I sat in the kitchen, holding my little cousin Claire on my lap, I felt the first butterfly movements of you.

Five months later, you arrived.  You came a whole month earlier than you were supposed to, you couldn’t wait to join everyone here.  And you came just days before your Great Grandfather’s November birthday, as if you were saying to us all, “He is with me”.

cancer, hope, living, mystics, time

Zen and The Art of Survivor Maintenance

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PET Scan

by Carmen H Gray

Whirring noises are the sounds of birds in flight

The cold air a misty San Francisco morning in the depths of summer

Prayers whispered to Whoever while my hand touches the soft fuzz of her delicate hair

Delicate shell, the inverse of Her being, Her soul, Her unconquerable spirit

We are not in that sterile place of radioactive inspection

We are in our own private world where time and beauty bless us

With their perfect embrace

cancer, living, time, writing

The C-Word Revisited November 23, 2014 8:28 p.m.

When the cancer journey began, back in August, I posted about the C-word. Amazing friends of ours “bombed” us with love and took the c-words from my post that I wanted to imagine instead of cancer when I thought of Ava and propped them up on sticks coming out of the basket of gifts.  I placed the words in a vase with bamboo that still sits on the kitchen windowsill.

Everyday I would see these words looking back at me and I’d repeat them in my mind, even when I was not feeling them.  Especially when I was not feeling them. Every morning when I’d wake up and go into the kitchen to get the day going, there they would be.  Every night when I found myself glancing out the kitchen window, there they were.  Words that I wanted to write into a reality instead of the one we were confined to at the beginning.

I believe that words are powerful.  What we say reflects how we think and what we think becomes who we are on so many levels.  Choose carefully.  I know I’ve regretted some things I’ve said-we all have.  The beautiful thing is, we have a multitude of opportunities to revise and redeem our words.

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