Ray Quesada

As The Rain Hits The Leaves - Poem by Ray Quesada

With no inspiration or passion in heart
O, where is a person ever to start
With hardly a friend in this mysterious land
Is there hope for growth
in the heart of a man?
Is there hope for a Bliss that can make one's soul dance?

Sitting alone with thunder outside
With an open book I sit
Like a monk, and hide
From the smug cops
Cars; people; thieves
Look out at a golden Stray Dog
Scratching his fleas
and out at the trees
as the rain hits the leaves…

Whether a bed, a couch, or a sit in a chair
In front of TV, all one feels is despair
A sip on a beer - it might take that away
But sometimes it just makes the Spirit decay
And it's painful to think of happier days

With every tick of the clock on the wall
With every tip-toe of the bug that crawls
Time swallows my life and the state I'm living in
Right down into it's stomach of Oblivion

Worrying about death - is it the correct choice?
To speak Grim Reaper's name
With your breath and your voice
To think those thoughts - is it praise or blasphemy?
To the Holy, Sacred life, 'God' has given me?
(It has to be both…Can you see?)

Each moment of grief is truly
a gift
A chance to use mind and will
to lift
One's spirit from Hell
and enter Nirvana
Do not put it off 'till
Manana manana

God doesn't have to 'be there' to walk by our side
No matter your beliefs or what you decide
He doesn't have to 'hear' us
to put his hand on our shoulder
God's in the tides; in the flowers and boulders
God is in your girl when you hold her

The hungry ocean in the distance yawns
As night gives birth to a distant dawn
The dawn that's on the prized horizon
Clouds pink as a Floyd you could bury your eyes in
God hides - Beauty is what he's disguised in

Every second is the First
Every second is the Last
B'cause Time is a circle - Endless Future; Endless Past
Now is Never
Forever is Now
All great Truth is Paradox
It don't matter how.
- Saturday, August 7th,2011,3: 30-4: 20 p.m. -

Topic(s) of this poem: God

Comments about As The Rain Hits The Leaves by Ray Quesada

  • (9/24/2013 2:37:00 AM)

    I loved this piece and have shared it on my facebook account. Hope you don't mind it. (Checc Real Wordz for comments my friends have left about it) (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
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  • (4/9/2013 11:01:00 PM)

    This is Great. I laughed out loud when I read the line Clouds pink as a Floyd you could bury your eyes in. This poem does speak to me though. I also like the line Is there hope for a bliss that can make one's soul dance. I've been feeling melancholic lately and this poem really hits home. (Report) Reply

  • Lyn Paul (12/13/2012 5:59:00 AM)

    So much meaning, clever,10 and on my fave list. Really special thank you (Report) Reply

  • Ruby Honeytip (11/18/2012 6:37:00 AM)

    There is a pull in this poem that just...won't....leave.......me!
    Luckily I don't want it to.
    I keep coming back.
    (Report) Reply

  • (11/5/2012 8:12:00 PM)

    A chance to use mind and will to lift
    One's spirit from hell and enter nirvana

    I'd have to say this part speaks to me the most, why? Who knows, but you're a very good with words Ray.
    (Report) Reply

  • Amanda Laurent (11/3/2012 11:44:00 PM)

    Clouds pink as a Floyd you could bury your eyes in
    God hides - Beauty is what he's disguised in
    My favorite lines, I love that you used a Pink Floyd reference! Very clever. I also like the perspective on time; truly a paradox. Very cool poem, gotta love those rainy, pensive days :)
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, October 25, 2012

Poem Edited: Monday, June 30, 2014

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