Within reach – kaleidoscope breaking.
I know what works, the machine is retreating
and each candle has dripped into oblivion.
God’s grace is nestled like nectar on my handkerchief,
it drips when it is squeezed but opens wide
when I take delight in its sunset colour.
The phone call I made 13 years ago has
been returned. Someone I dreamed of is
living without hope. That dream is sailing
on a raft into the unpredictable sea. I will sing
though I fear they will stop me. I will sing
though my face is flushed with doubt’s
The joy we’ve been waiting for is coming.
I see it coming, gradual, like all good things.
I will not be afraid.
I will lift up my heart
and make room for what follows…
Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Long Story Short”