Night Music

Will you dance with me

in this silvery pool

of moonlight

that falls across

your face

like a watered silk?

Will you clasp my hand

hold it as delicately

but firmly

as though it is my beating heart?

Wrap your arm

around my body

let your warmth

become my warmth

your breath become

my breath

soft against bare skin

Listen to the night music

swell

expand

fill us with ache

longing

as we sway together

in these steps

of remembrance

this onyx night. . .

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

From Night to Morning (Antologie)

Notes on the piano

haunting half steps

like spring rain on my heart

gentle at first

soothing

becomes a melody of 

blue melancholy

penetrates deeply

erodes defenses

leaves me raw

is echoed in tears

that slide steadily down my face

neck

breasts

becomes my heartbeat

as I fold in on myself

to staunch the bleeding

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

 

Loss is an Ocean

I stand on the shore

of an ocean named loss

where my eyes are always

drawn to the horizon

scanning encroaching fog

for the outlines

of those I have loved

of those I have lost

 

How many empty shapes

have been etched on my soul

like shadow

like negatives of photographs

from those who have been torn away

from this world

from my life

by the raging tides?

 

Eulogies

written in my blood

on the golden sands

in calligraphy

Words

memories

caging my heart

like delicate silver filigree

 

I am called to the sea

to sing their names

one by one

to the dawn tide

ancient shanties

of the women who have waited

women who know loss

like an element

a mineral

mixed in the marrow of their bones

I will sing steady and pure

refresh their memories

recall their meaning

for the rising sun

the fading moon

letting nothing be forgotten

not allowing them

to be completely lost

like the time that is slipping

through my aching fingers

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Longing (reimagined)

She knew something of longing

ache in the soul

awakened without warning

tears that welled up unbidden

pain in chest

phantom hand squeezing

her heart

lungs

pressing downward violently

leaving her robbed of breath

 

She knew something of longing

that indefinable

unnamed something missing

Person?

Place?

Thing?

Piece of her soul?

Who knew?

 

She knew something of longing

depthless loneliness

isolation

when alone

surrounded by a crowd

Never fully seen

never fully heard

never truly revealed

invisible to the naked eye

Perhaps she sought for eyes

on a city street

book store

coffee shop

that would look into

her deepest darkest

corners

and choose not to

look away. . .

Magic in Our Bones

There is magic

In our bones

Deep

Ancient

Resonate

Ancestral memories

Of a hundred lifetimes

Hum in our blood

You my pull-apart

The other half of my soul

That I am destined to seek

Lifetime after lifetime

 

There is magic

In our bones

Words of power

Woven in our marrow

We have invented new languages

Of love and longing

Across eras

Across continents

Will time be our friend this

incarnation?

 

There is magic

In our bones

You forest green

Me periwinkle

You pine and lemons

Me lavender and sea air

Your echo

Lives in my soul

The shape of you an absence

That aches

 

There is magic

In our bones

When we brush by each other

On a cold city street

The air becomes electric

As our energies collide

Recognition rings crystal

Like a bell

A spell is woven

Passions invoked

As we reach for each other

Homecoming

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Night Music

Will you dance with me

in this silvery pool

of moonlight

that falls across

your face

like a watered silk?

Will you clasp my hand

hold it as delicately

but firmly

as though it is my beating heart?

Wrap your arm

around my body

let your warmth

become my warmth

your breath become

my breath

soft against bare skin

Listen to the night music

swell

expand

fill us with ache

longing

as we sway together

in these steps

of remembrance

this onyx night. . .

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved