Tag: jeremiah ray literature

ink

i dreamed last night.

i couldn’t find my pen.

wait, that’s not quite right.

i didn’t really lose it.

it was just hiding from me.

that’s different.

i couldn’t write anything.

my fingers felt tangled.

and without it,

nothing made sense

at all.

maybe this sounds confusing.

but it isn’t.

in my dream, i woke up

and saw the pen

was in my bed, and it had burst

now i was covered

in thick ink

that flowed over my body

and eventually into my mouth.

when i tried to speak,

i gurgled

and jumbled

and tangled thoughts

spilled out of my mouth.

time

This is time.
Cedar shingles
tell the story of seasons,
weathered and gray.
an unasked question.
a hint of passion
left unresolved.
Time heals
in scattered pieces.
Small fragments
of a face
once kissed and
now forgotten.
Time is a name,
one called out
in a dream
and unanswered in
waking life.
This is time.
a boy full of innocence
becoming a man
far too soon,
holding steady,
offering shelter,
holding words.
Time hasn’t moved,
only the distance
from my fingertips
to yours,
from my mouth
to your body.
This is time.
a face
aged by life,
wrinkled and worn,
with eyes
that burn with
fearful intensity.
a gift given by time,
Only by time.

unseen

you are gone,

time cannot hold on to what it once held.

you’ve seen this before,

somewhere

we were together here,

just like lovers are,

unseen by anyone.

you drift away,

lost in dreams.

gone

but time still brings you back.

lovers remain in time,

in dreams.

memories still kept close.

you and i,

lovers kept in time.

to the heavens

i woke up to blue skies

and noticed how gently everything moved

as the pine trees swayed

out on the horizon.

my tea is black

rich and strong

i try to sip it slowly

the mug is hot

against my lips

i do not remember

if yesterday was the same

or if the day before

was any different

now, i’m not sure

if it even matters

today the sky is blue

tomorrow it might be

dark gray all the way to the horizon

and when the gray

stretches on and on without

any definition

i’ll remind myself it doesn’t matter

and that tomorrow

it might be deep cerulean

endless from the earth

to the heavens

 

a word

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.

the lilac tree

the lilac tree

is ready once more

with blossoms almost here

about to bloom

and last year’s buds

are now just reminders

turned inward on themselves

this is how nature

teaches us to move on

shows us that

we have to accept

with time

we also need to let go

in time

of every season

and their memories

only a lilac tree

could

show us this

with such bold defiance

with such gentle grace

fly straight

Today I learned what geese talk about
when they fly,
when they leave for the winter.
I said,
“No, it can’t be,
They look like they have everything,
They really seem to have it all
all figured out.”
from the ground,
gazing up,
up, up, up,
Their direction looks so certain,
Their flight seems so pure,
as if they live with a real purpose.
But now I think I understand what they say
when they are migrating,
when they are flying away.
They are not talking about the view.
They are not talking about the endless horizon, either.
They do not talk about a life of freedom.
Instead, this is what they say:
“I need to keep moving,
If I stop, I will start to think!”
“Will I be attractive
When I get older?”
“I think I’m lovable,
but maybe I’m not.”
“Am I necessary to this company
Or just kidding myself?”
“I pushed away another beautiful soul
and I made it look like their choice.”
I stood there on the ground,
barefoot,
with grass between my toes,
looking up,
feeling surprised and amazed
as they sang their songs overhead.
How could that happen?
But part of me already knew
and part of me understood
Those golden arrows you see can only fly straight
for just so long.