What Can I Hope to Tell You?

I don’t usually write poems, so when one comes to me, I have no idea what it might have to say to another person. This one speaks to my experience, especially in the sense of not being alone even when you struggle as if you were alone sometimes. 

What Can I Hope to Tell You?

 What can I hope to tell you
About a Tuesday morning dew?
Outside, the ground is quiet
The birds have all gone away
And I’m just standing by the window
Misting ‘bout
The days of our innocence

Why do I long to see you
In a warm, remembered way?
Inside, the chest is tightening
New thoughts wrestle with old ones
Down on the floor, the poor one
Wonders:
Might I confess to the wind?

How can I quell the rumblings
Every hapless day, night, or morning?
All around, queries stretch me outward
While the chill air answers in dew light:
“Blessed are you a soul graced 
With seeking—
Tender, unsure, not alone”

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1 Comment

  1. Marjorie | | Reply

    Ray, What a fun surprise to find your poem in the email when I returned from Walking Meditation!
    Emmett Charles is lucky to have a grandfather like you. I never take off my grandmother’s wedding ring,
    a similar thing.

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