ethereal, poetry, time

What Lies Inside

What Lies Inside

by Carmen H Gray

What stirs her

Only the burs that stick inside the lace lined white socks

Oh the flutterings of the old, burned burrows

Drawn in the straw colored grass, they come out

Reeling from thorns that are still sharp

Yet certain steps retrace forgotten paths

Altering the trajectory of the stars, as it were

Never to be known the same again

That is what lies inside

Like chards broken into bits

A mosaic of light and sound

Sometimes dimmed in an overly bright world

Too fast, too demanding

Get off of the merry-go-round

Stand still in the centripetal force

Felt on the periphery

Or be that force itself

That is what lies inside

beauty, hope, living, moments, nature, poetry

Courageous

Sometimes even to live is an act of courage.”

― Lucius Annaeus Seneca

An act of courage is as unnoticeable as breathing

(to the outside observer)

When you’ve kept everything stored up for a potential moment

That has yet to materialize

It is the unfurling of a leaf

The action directly following an extended pause

I don’t agree with Seneca

It’s not some times

It is all of the time

Living is an act of courage

It isn’t involuntary

Like I was taught in biology classes

It’s more like:

Lungs, breathe

Anger, seethe

Heart, beat

Move, feet

Fingers, feel

Feelings, heal

Eyes, blink

Brain, think

Living is an act of courage

So I salute you, my courageous one

Living courageously each minute

Each hour

Each day

Each year

And I honor the beauty you bring to us all

hope, living, nature, poetry, Uncategorized

Suspended

For it’s our grief that gives us our gratitude,

Shows us how to find hope, if we ever lose it.

So ensure that this ache wasn’t endured in vain: Do not ignore the pain. Give it purpose. Use it.

-Amanda Gorman

Suspended

by Carmen H Gray

Fold yourself gently into it, my love

Suspension is the pause

Before you let yourself step further

Even if you trip, have confidence

In the fall

The sweet earth

Contains a purpose for you:

Soft grass reminds you to lean into her for comfort

Icy streams awaken your senses that are dulled

Vast meadows with their worlds within worlds

Show you there is always more to examine

And even the harsh desserts

Where the sea once was

Have vestiges of a former way of being

To teach you

Life can change

And shift, yet even so, it adapts

Everything you need is

Where you are

Let yourself fall a little back to earth

Forces pull you downward, inward

For a reason

living, moments, mystics, nature, poetry, time

The Ancients

by Carmen H Gray

one of the many trails I’ve hiked in the pacific northwest

Time passes

it is a path of fallen petals

strewn across soundlessly, like dew drops

upon fresh blades of grass

they are just as temporal

each petal holds a moment

whereby a day was lived,

gladly or sadly

depending on the circumstances

they disintegrate

softly curling inward

becoming part of the footpath

where little bare feet tread

scattering with the wind

and nestling into the ground

resting under layers

of newly fallen petals

the soil and rocks

collectively guarding all

the knowledge and secrets

of each day lived

and each night spent

here on earth

letting go, moments, nature, poetry

hands

hands by Carmen H Gray

the ice was crisp and forming

on the leaves of my plants

i had tended

i knew each leaf, each flower

i could almost feel their cells,

filling with tiny shards of ice

cutting them open and destroying plant tissue

which made me grieve their deaths

but it wasn’t until i saw that man

on the side of the road

whose delicate cells were simultaneously dying

that my heart leapt outside of my chest

on this icy day

in this tale of two cities

brimming with the new Elon Musks

and the homeless, what a juxtaposition

the last part of his body i noticed

were his hands

which could have belonged to any one of us, really

hope, living, poetry, time

The Healing House

“Before you can hear, much less follow, the voice of your soul, you have to win back your body. You have to go on a pilgrimage beneath the skin.”

―Meggan Watterson, Reveal

The Healing House

by Carmen H Gray

one day they may come back to you

have your prepared yourself anew?

have you gone on your own pilgrimage?

have you faced your very own umbrage?

for when these lessons return to know

the breadth and depth of your adagio

this is when all is revealed

the stalwart strength in your shield

the gentle bend that did not break

regardless of the commanding quake

you will then come to find

that in the midst of all that time

the stumbles and the thorns helped form

a compelling foundation to transform

your healing home inside of you

a precious place of highest value

it never stops until you end

the effort put forth to transcend

each new lesson to teach you more

that is what a healing house is for

letting go, living, moments, teaching

Teach

Screen Shot 2020-05-12 at 12.55.11 PM

Teach

by Carmen H Gray

I rushed to sort it all out: 14 years of 28 gone by

As I piled more things to the side for goodbye

There wasn’t enough time to go through it all

I glanced at the artwork, left lonely on the wall

I sighed and I conjured up all that I’d taught

And little nuances that each of us brought

To this space confined between four walls

And even beyond that, into the halls

I heard the sniffles with tears, the children who needed healing

I also heard laughter, the “hello, Ms. Gray’s,” while excitedly squealing

I packed it all up-those sights and those sounds

I headed outside to the gardens and grounds

Where the rosemary was named and the aloe was tended

Where the fig tree was climbed and fairy houses blended

Into the rocks, the acorns, and where the leaves unfurled

This is where little hands created imaginary worlds

And I kept the sadness locked up, not revealing

When my son saw me and asked how I was feeling

So I told him the school, his school, was going away

I glimpsed at his face, the boyhood cheeks gave way

To a chiseled, grown up profile

He looked at me with a smile

Though still lost in my thoughts, and feeling distracted

He gently said,

“Mama, just think of how many lives you’ve impacted”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ethereal, letting go, living, moments, mystics

I AM-NESS

“The intuition of the moral sentiment is an insight of the perfection of the laws of the soul. These laws execute themselves. They are out of time, out of space, and not subject to circumstance.”-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I Am-Ness

by Carmen H Gray

 

I Am-ness is letting the whole

be made up of all Parts

The parts we wish to project

The parts we wish to protect

I Am-Ness is the absence of division

Or Duality

It is all knowing, all being, all light, all love, all truth

It is everything and nothing in the blink of an eye

It is the symbiotic receptacle of the space between space

It is loving, when it is hard to love

It is seeing from the pinnacle into the valley below

I Am-Ness is possibility that we are changing into reality

 

 

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

 

 

 

ethereal, moments, mystics, time, writing

From A Dream

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”-Oscar Wilde

From A Dream

by Carmen H Gray

You and I, we made such vagaries of the mind

We called ourselves by unrelated names

And wandered into an altered world, where our ages

Were neither young nor old, nor anything in between

As if we were ageless, we were

I saw you writing and you watched me daydreaming in this distant place

I could not remember who I was anymore

As if I had disintegrated into no one, but everyone at once

And you were there to witness such an existence

What strange lives we have lived together

Thought I