moving on

Right Outside My Window

Watch it as it goes
Out the window
And out into the world.
Watch as it no longer has a home.
Watch as it slowly slips through your fingers
But somehow you know it had a piece of your soul.

That void is opening, getting larger,
Slowly drifting out and now you wish it could come back home,
Even for a moment,
Just a moment to return the time
Where you could embrace it,
Or imagine what you could do
If you could pause it for a moment,
But it’s gone… it’s gone.

And it’s right outside your window,
Do you open your window
And let it accompany you as you wake?
Do you let it sing you to bed at night
As your heart slowly breaks?

And you watch it outside your window
As it slowly fades away
Into the distance,
Into a memory
That wants to walk away.

Grab onto the memory,
Let it linger and comfort you once more.
Just right outside the window
It’s telling you
‘Can I come in through the door?’

This piece came pouring out after the first two lines came to me in song… Thanks for reading.

Falling Blossoms


My arms embrace the challenge
to serve as your refuge
through seasons, storms, the sweltering sun,
and gusts of wind.

As those days near their end
and the air turns cold,
my emerald tones slowly convert to amber and crimson
before they too surrender to the elements.

Imminent days lie ahead
where life will be renewed,
but until then the sweet scent of flowering blossoms
from our days together continues.

The Immemorial Breeze

After Robbie Krieger

A rhythm begins within, grows its pace
steadying adjacent to my lungs
gently caressing and heightening in time.

As I reach for an opened door
among this unsteady foundation,
I become one with an ultimate fascination.

A gentle breeze sways its way
lifting me across the fields.

Absorbed with awe
above each tempestuous treetop
and with each breath, the view assures that we are blessed.

These movements of air,
raw and real,
reminds me how I’ve longed to feel.

This source of peace,
begging for stillness,
levels our lost lives.

Restoring my spirit home,
I grant myself the space to breathe.

The ceaseless rhythm stroking my chest
stirs within me, and is bound to last eternally.

Speak for the Trees

Photo by Guillaume Meurice on Pexels.com

tears fall from the tips of leaves,
no longer heaving but finally at peace,
no longer a place for relief,
no longer bending to the constant breeze,
no longer kept afloat meandering rivers,
no longer subject to raging fires,
no longer a victim to defeat.

tides no longer pulling at the heart,
stars no longer hovering above,
no longer tormented to be part of the world
that casts itself forcibly upon a need for an anchor,
as the only surviving hope.

life no longer to be cradled within these branches,
the forest now lives inside the heart
of everything we once knew.

Moving Forward

Originally published in Teen Belle Magazine at https://teenbellemag.wixsite.com/tbmag/post/moving-forward-by-kimberly-ray

Treading forward,
wind pushing against my back
Finding a grip in the blowing sand
Gust ripping and I’m alone again

Ruminating about the sunset
What I’ll see if I continue moving
Head down, pushing against the wind
Marching forward, finding where I’ll begin

I will get my way
Taking fate by the hand
I will see my sunset someday
Making my way across this historic land

Deconstruction Site

How many times do we take
the leap before we realize
we’ve jumped in too deep

How many times do we stop
to realize we need to
protect our insides

How many times does this heart
have to break; this love,
you too shall take

He was the one healing
the deepest scar,
the wound he created,
only to tear it apart
as he twists the knife
churning everything
inside of me

Mementos

One by one counting memories:
An old photograph of us at the beach,
A sweater that won’t rid itself of your scent,
Books and CDs that you lent,
I’ve packed them away
They won’t see another day

I’ve packed the boxes,
Made the plans,
The rooms are empty
But I am motionless

Is it that familiar look?
Is it that morning glow
That paints itself through that morning window?
No, it’s these damn memories that aren’t letting go

Listen to more of my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

Revolving Door

Image Credit: Baloncici

He says, “you’ve been a great lover,
opened up doors for me,
been there when I needed you
but I’m going to leave you, woman
for I know you could do better than me”
He picks up his suitcase,
then he’s running out the door

And that’s the way it is
that’s the way it’ll always be
lovers in and out the revolving door

She says, “I’m going to leave this town
so much has been given
and I’m grateful for what’s been
but I need to get going
for I know I could do better”
She packs her things,
then she’s running out the door

And that’s the way it is
that’s the way it’ll always be
lovers in and out the revolving door

There’s always a path to something better
there’s always something else that will find you
all the sweet things that you dream
she sends a postcard to check in, say where she’s been
but he doesn’t look back, throws all those lost loves into his sack

And that’s the way it is
that’s the way it’ll always be
lovers who dream
and lovers who leave

Meet Me in the Rain

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Meet me in the rain
So I can explain
The sun’s gone
And it’s been too long

I look at your pictures on the wall
I shouldn’t keep them up for too long
I miss the sound of you down the hall
So I avoid the sound of you at all

It’s as if the flood gates of heaven opened up from God’s weeping
Deep down I know it wasn’t you I should be keeping