art, beauty, ethereal, hope, living, moments, mystics, Uncategorized

The Rich Deep Tones of A Cello

drawing.pearl

drawing by Carmen H Gray

The Rich Deep Tones of A Cello

by Carmen H Gray

I’ve heard it in my dreams

As if he called to me

His voice in that same living tone

Of her beloved instrument

The sound waves echoing from our distant past

An expanding ripple of spheres

That reach across time

Pausing to recapture

The rich, deep tones of a cello

That hold so many memories

She ordered resin today

The parentheses have had their moment

I feel the exhaling of one hundred breaths

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Hope

Hope

by Carmen H Gray

 

Isn’t it wondrous, I thought

That she made it

To the end of her journey

She, being smaller

The scant resources did not curtail her instinct to continue

To do what her very existence

Summoned her to achieve

As if some greater force was at play

Guiding her gently to her intention

We can learn grand lessons from such small wins

In the savage Jungle

 

hope, letting go, Uncategorized

Tiny Golden Slippers

“Yo no quiero que a mi niña
la vayan a hacer princesa.
Con zapatitos de oro
¿cómo juega en las praderas?”-de Miedo por Gabriela Mistral

“I don’t want them to turn my little girl into a princess. In tiny little gold slippers, how could she play in the meadow?”-from Fear by Gabriela Mistral

Tiny Golden Slippers

By Carmen H Gray

Let her be so strong

That the shiny strings of longing

No longer draw her in

Let her echo a resistance

That all of the fear mongering

Is laughable in her brilliance

Let her be so wise

That her wings lift her to the skies

To see the earth

With both discerning eyes

Let my mistakes teach her,

Speak quietly to her heart

And gently, carefully reach her

So she may with grace part

From any notion of dreams withheld

And lastly, may she break

The last pair of tiny golden slippers

Worn for others’ sakes

 

letting go, Uncategorized

Pieces of Her

“Arrange whatever pieces come your way”-Virginia Woolf

Pieces of Her

by Carmen H Gray

She wept

And each

Salt-filled drip

Contained pieces of her

A uniquely composed

Momentary release

Of cells on the verge of

Elapsed time

Recalling an ending

Opening the space

For the conception

Of pieces of her

Arranged by her

With her

For her

In that when

That moment dies

It is a pretty death

With liquid attendants

Saying farewell with love