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

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

 

Sun in Midwinter

Sun in Midwinter

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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.

 

 

All That Is

All That Is

by Carmen H Gray

When you were a tiny baby

And bad things happened to good people

My heart ached

I closed my eyes and prayed to whomever

And your soft face was conjured in my mind

It gave me unadulterated peace

Separateness is an illusion

Even the photons know this

Whispering to our future selves

Planting seeds in our faraway past

So that we can arrive together

Outside of time and space

Remembering who we are again

 

Boxes

Boxes

by Carmen H Gray

I sifted through old things in boxes today

A positive pregnancy test

A dress she wore when she was 6

Her port from the chemotherapy

Letters upon letters: “you will kick cancer’s ass”

“This sea glass reflects a light in you”

“Can I please have a bunny, mom? I want a goddamn bunny! I promise I’ll take care of it”

All things that came to pass after all

Her gratitude in the midst of hell

The list of reasons why her nurses and doctors were the kindest souls she ever knew

Wigs she wore maybe once, yet tenderly kept

Hot tears welled for all of the times I held them in

They must have been compartmentalized

Just like those things

Folded neatly to be stored and perused again

When time and good health bestowed

A moment to remember those symbolic totems

On a rainy Sunday in May

Years later

Isn’t it funny how full and empty

A cycle moves the memories

Of the brevity captured

In boxes

 

 

 

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

 

Circle

“We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game”-Joni Mitchell

 

Circle

by Carmen H Gray

 

Equidistant

Perfect movement forward

Sliding Downward

Then Upward

Each point containing

Its own perfect perspective

Of Existence

All around us

Vectors teaching us

A fraction of a change

Moves the course

Flowing round, flowering

Each dying end turning

Back into life