a word

Poetry

When I was a child, I copied
the way you moved
and I would ask,
What should I call you?

I tried to find
a word I hadn’t
learned yet,

a word beyond
what a child could understand.
It was something unfamiliar,

Now, as an adult, I still
find myself asking,
What should I call you?

There are no gestures now.
I don’t understand
That’s what it means to grow older.

This is a shadow,
and this, too,
is part of life.

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Published by Jeremiah Ray

Jeremiah Ray is an interdisciplinary artist and writer living and working in coastal Maine. He holds an MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. His visual artwork mirrors his life, characterized by ongoing exploration and discovery. During his formative years, Jeremiah traveled extensively, exploring languages and cultures to seek adventure and better understand himself. Jeremiah completed his MFA in studio art with a clear goal—to teach. He aimed to help others discover and refine their unique, personal language. He believes art surpasses verbal communication, and finding one's voice in a personal medium to express oneself nonverbally is both a significant challenge and a powerful skill. In 2016, Jeremiah was diagnosed with advanced testicular cancer. This diagnosis profoundly changed his perspective on art, both visual and written, reinforcing his belief that art is a universal language. Facing the emotional weight of his diagnosis, Jeremiah became aware that he often lacked the words to understand and share his experiences fully. During this difficult time, he focused on two fundamental questions: What does it mean to be vulnerable? And how can I communicate this to others? Guided by these questions, he has embarked on a personal journey of healing and self-exploration.

Published