Sun in Midwinter

Sun in Midwinter

file-20

The diseases, the chemotherapy, the fluctuating hormones of the middle years, the exigent need to be female, when born with male parts (or vice versa), the perfect cup of Persian tea sitting in front of me-they are all chemicals and energy transforming. The child in my class who needs extra reminders because all norepinephrine molecules are not created equally. Or the one who is howling in distress because an excess of cortisol due to previous trauma has been re-triggered. The flicker of passion that reverberates between two beings. The animals that bond and the ones that repel one another.

We are but chemistry, made up of cell particles that have existed for millions of years. We are the stuff of stars, they say. The oxygen atoms created from burning stars. The trace heavy elements residing within us, despite their tiny contribution, are a result of the profound energy of exploding stars.

When you begin to understand this, everything is clearer. That look of consternation on a co-worker’s face. The person honking their horn at you in traffic. Your teenager scowling at you. The highs, too. The states of calm that you have within your power to create to lower stress hormones and inflammatory proteins. The release of oxytocin when a mother breastfeeds or when you stare deeply into another person’s eyes.

We are but chemistry. It’s really simple. And yet we forget. We are the stuff of stars; being born, brilliantly shining in the middle ages like our sun or dying and thus creating heavy metals needed in minuscule amounts to create life yet again.

 

 

Advertisements

Tenderness

Tenderness

by Carmen H Gray

Tender darkness with tendrils

That reach deep into the aching

Kissing our self-pity, rocking our illnesses

So sweet and comfortable in our cocoons

Tender silence from broken parts

Of mauled noises that struck our ears

Leaving us thrashing about

But you have to be still to hear the softness again

Tender wounds that weep with pus

But are covered ever and anon

Does it hurt more to extricate the poison?

Is tender just a state of mind?

Like a word that can be changed

With one letter

Tinder sparks that spread

Cauterizing the damage

Ushering in light, passion, heat, sound

Opening up to a new

Tenderness

 

Vision

Vision

by Carmen H Gray

I was there

Under the brilliant stars

Velvet Night

Silent Night

Expansive Earth

Desert air

Beckoning me

Summoning me

I could feel a presence

Coiled, then undulating

Shedding its skin

Ethereally alive

Spiraling path inward

Inward, I heard

It was my own voice

Calling to me

 

 

 

Symbiotic

Symbiotic

by Carmen H Gray

 

In the bath that night

When your hair of coppery wine

Fell out without a fight

Your cells committing suicide

A part of me died, too

They all told me, “this is hardest on the mother”

But I kept up appearances for you

I held in the fears and tears for the sake of others

Keep them all in smiles

Don’t disappoint

Hide the real hardship, the trials

Stay on point

The malignancies in both of us

Were put to rest

Releasing me from the superfluous

All that I had suppressed

In my long-running attempts to be infallible

Liberating me from my selfhood

Learning that the real “me” is valuable

Beyond a perfectly imperfect motherhood

 

 

 

Mending

Mending

by Carmen H Gray

Your hand

In mine

After all of this time

Soft and elusive

I glimpse around

Quivering about me

Like a tiny wren

Are mementos of when

And where

We began