Saturday, November 5, 2011


Viewed from below,
Envied by us,
Unable to reach such heights,
Their fluffy texture invites your mind to rest,
Your eyes to a world of darkness,
And their wispy strands full over the sky,
Like hair on gentle shoulders,
Clouds are just beyond our reach,
Even when they are in our grasp,
They cannot be held,
Only to be viewed, not obtained,
The bright white cottonballs clumped on the horizon,
Some sprinkled snow shading the surface from rays of light,
The white against blue,
Yellow infused vanilla ice cream,
Spread throughout the sea above us,
Giving relief from the smoldering sun,
Or lighting the way on a journey
These vapors can fill us with realization,
The power of their presence overwhelms us,
The dark shadows fill us,
With inspiration,

I Speak to the Wind

I Speak to the Wind
Aboard the massive galleon,
Their sails unfurled,
At sea I wait,
Silence the only one speaking,
Soon the sloshing of frothy waters surrounds my words,
I speak to the wind,
It carries my voice into the distant horizon,
Whispers heard among the beating of waves,
The sails flapping in response,
I shatter the silence,
And it falls like glass around my body,
As I shout words of anguish.
I speak to the wind,
Its gentle breeze caressing me,
Its inviting presence overwhelming me,
I cry into the breeze,
The large voice unknown by me bouncing along the water,
The sea holds its breath,
Waiting patiently for the wind to respond,
I sit there,
And listen to my words echo back,
Brought by the wind.
I speak to the wind,
And it replies numbly,
Notifying me once more of its power,
Reminding me once more of the strength it contains,
Of the damage it has seen,
Of the knowledge it has gained,
The wisdom it has received from experiences long past,
I speak to the wind,
Of my own struggles,
My own mistakes
And I ask the wind what to learn from them,
It replies with hallow sounds,
Whistles of all pitches,
It howls around me with delight,
I speak to the wind,
Asking for some way to understand,
Some deliverance,
A sign,
That I was protected ,
That I wasn't to return to the mess of a world I came from,
For I wished to live with only the sun,
The water,
And the wind.
Suddenly the wind fades,
The water turns away,
And the sun shields me from its own light.
I speak to the wind,
Asking for it to come back,
To come back to me,
I drop to my knees,
Begging for another chance,
To be able to have the rush of air in my hair,
The wind brought me courage, strength,
It gave me the sun,
And the freedom of the waters,
I speak to the wind,
And I see it swirl along the surface,
Filling my sails once more,
Filling me with hope yet another time,
This joy is lived,
For the wind holds me in its arms,
And talks to me in the softest voice blessed upon my ears,
Giving me words of parting,
I speak to the wind,
My mind bursting,
My thoughts flowing into the sea,
Lighting the sun on fire,
The wind rages on,
And bids me farewell,
As it whips into the distance,
Disappearing from sight,
I feel...
 At ease,
I sit in the silence that was once present before,
The silence that filled the air around me,
And I sit once more,
Staring at the sails,
Feeling the sin sinking into the ocean below,
Becoming dark, icy, and somehow....
And I wait....
For when the wind comes back,
For when I can speak to the wind,
Once more.

Original Poem by SethWilson Isaac Gray

Unhealed Scars

Unhealed Scars
Like the wings that cut through dampened air,
And scales through waters cold,
The knife runs slowly down the skin,
Cutting through scars unhealed,
Liquid roses seep from cracks,
Running along the desert plains,
Down my side,
They gather pain forgotten,
And it drips...
Drips to the floor,
Returning to the earth it was born from,
The pain of unhealed scars forgotten,
In the blood of my heart so rotten.

Original Poem by SethWilson Isaac Gray