DENNIS JOHN FERADO

DENNIS

JOHN FERADO

I Am The One

I am the rain that quenches your thirst

The poem that you studied and rehearsed

I am the hunger of the lost hound

I am the stones that hold you earthbound

I am the damp grass between your toes

I am the meadow where you run free

I am the echo in a grand hall

I am the singing bells when they toll

I am the oak of great dignity

I am the leaf that withers and falls

I am the One

I was the mountain where you now stand

Now I’m that rock beaten into sand

I am the tree with whom you ponder

I am that eagle with whom you fly

I am the friend with whom you wander

I am the dew that clings to your lips

I am the snake that crawls in the pits

I am the dust that gusts in your eyes

I am sensations hidden inside

Think you feel somebody by your side

I am the One

I am the strings in your rhapsody

I am the sea that streams through your veins

I am the root of your melody

I am the doorway into your mind

I am candles that gleam in your eyes

I am the twilight forever young

I am the song that cleaves to your tongue

I am the wind that lashes your face

Steals your breath lifts up that dress of lace

I am the space where the stars are strung

I am the One.

I am the walk you take in the sky

I am the cloud you rest on to sigh

The crack of the daybreak when you wake

Obsidian black seen when you sleep

I am the sheen that lives in your hair

I am the breezes you hear that speak

I am the blush that colors your cheeks

I am the branches starting to creak

When  the trees are all frozen and bare

When you think that you sense someone there

I am the One

Copyright Dennis John Ferado

The Spirit

There is a spirit in the sky

It fills the trees I hear it sigh

The spirit cares not for

The things that we chase

The spirit is fire and

The tide in our hearts

The spirit gives birth and

Sea-drifting charts

The spirit of love rings

Throughout the universe

The spirit of love

Has written this verse

The spirit of love lives

In every child’s face

Copyright Dennis John Ferado

Oneness

        Passing his reflection he stopped and gazed becoming immobilized.  An unmoving sorrow filled his chocolate-brown eyes carrying him to the end of Always.  There was a story he could not begin, a dog without a home, a love he could not hold onto, a secluded place he could not find. 

        The dead, unconcerned and unruffled, rest silently in their earthy beds.  There are many tides that come and go in one’s lifetime but there’s that one tide meant for each person and when it arrives we must recognize it, follow the heart and go with the flow—take that swim. 

        He could see himself, much younger then, in Central Park sitting on Cherry Hill below the whispering elm, another companion was the dappled moonlight in the semi-dark.  There are no more fears, as then, he is stronger now than he was then; empty of pain empty of tears.  Listening to the wind in the wood, the woeful whimpering of the wind.

        Naked is the night, for the things he is, follow him wherever he goes, the things he is not, he chases through the sun, the hail and the snow.  His reason shaken, his self-possession scattered about, they had deserted him.

        Slowly he began to recall that night and the things that had touched his heart and brought him back.  How, through the comfort of a friendship one can discover and see the Sea beyond the sea.  And, perceiving the fundamental essences of nature: the strength of the tree above him; the richness of Mother Earth surrounding him; the proud green grass beneath him; the grace and dignity of a dandelion flower beside him; and all those uncountable eyes in the sky.  Absorbing and becoming part of its awesomeness, an overpowering sense of Oneness filled his heart and brought a trickle of joy from his eye

Copyright DENNIS JOHN FERADO

DENNIS JOHN FERADO

DENNIS JOHN FERADO: I’ve been a doorman, exterminator, taxi driver, truck driver, construction worker, actor, model, astrologer, antique store owner and a seller of rare books from 1993 until 2013 when we retired and moved to San Antonio. Born and raised in New York City I’ve been writing songs and poetry since I was 15. New York city has always been my pain, joy, confusion, stability and my inspiration. My first book “Time On Hand”  was publisher in October of 2014 and collects 80 songs and poems and 16 vintage photographs. I have written a screenplay titled New York City Song with 17 original songs—which rests in my closet. In 1991 I had a showing of my two-act play: “Chuck Knows Something,” in an off, off Broadway Theater. I am working a memoir about growing up in New York City.