Identity (as self to self before God)
Identity as explorer,
as an eagle with a powerful spread,
or as a sparrow, budding delicate, stirring
tenderness in others.
Identity as a mother, as a single flame monk
in the 4 a.m. quiet, under a dome, encased
in creativity and loneliness. Identity
as drink, poverty, excessive cash flow or beauty
beside the grave of the visibly mediocre.
Identity in discipline or free-spirit strength
that enriches the landscape with humour and charm.
Identity as a man whose skin has become core,
and the burden of time has passed through his sky
like a setting moon.
Stoic or gregarious, just the shape of a cloud,
changing, merging with other clouds
than dissipating. Speaking – backwards, forwards –
when the bearer of that identity dares to skip over the madness
of self-loathing, self-congratulating, skip
the moan in summer, the ovation indoors
and be in love,
like when first in love, ever swallowing
the joy into the fear, then the fear into joy,
the how-can-this-be? the will-I-ever-be-pure-enough?
struggling to keep up with such a devouring-bliss. Devour me,
more, more, let it be, be what never rests,
what is always too much, always
electrified, perfect. Heal me of identities,
allow me to step longing for divinity with every step,
engulfed in a splintering ecstasy while longing –
this beat, this beat – folding over, under and
everywhere, mastering the dance,
where my identity is just like a child with a toy,
there to enact a deed of great imagination.
© 2018 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Moongate Motherbird” April 2018
Published in “Elephant Journal” April 2018
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: