Calling

.

Calling

 .

It happens once.

Maybe there are near misses,

little rooms of perfection that were

dressed-up beautifully for a while,

held passion and intent, though behind

the dream-like wonder – a deadness that

that surpassed each sermon you gave yourself

of goodwill and future promise.

 

It only happens full strength –

blue flame clean, exact – once. And when

it happens it is warm as a new lifeforce emerging,

tears down confusion, shreds the darkness, and

is difficult like falling in love – a love that overshadows

all other loves before, ruins you for anything less

than its wounding intensity, its golden seriousness.

 

It will not happen again – even if it fails in its performance,

projecting a weak beam across the table. Even if it

straps you to the chair of an unyielding sorrow –

it will not lose its possessive claim.

 

It has latched to your everlasting like a hosanna

riveting through each pore, breaking the bottom

again and again, breaking through the traffic

to measure you naked and

just as you are.

.

.

Copyright © 2017 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “In In Thirds, Issue 8” December 2016

ink-in-thirds-3 ink-in-thirds-4 ink-in-thirds-calling ink-in-thirds-5 ink-in-thirds-6

Magazine

Poetry Contributors – Issue 8

http://www.magcloud.com/browse/issue/1193809/follow?__r=676117

http://www.magcloud.com/Webviewer/1193809

ink_in_thirds_magazine_ink_in_thirds_issue_8

.

.

You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

.

.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s