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Working with Glory

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In the rich thick salt

of a sea,

gulls gather creating

havoc with their stammering wings.

 

A dog brushes my knees.

Small pebble shells cover my toes.

 

I walk to the pavement where

an insect crawls,

seeing purpose there as great

as any mountain climber’s weight and cause.

 

I follow a madman off the pavement

into the bush, hearing the waking

of an oncoming downpour.

 

In a raven’s beak descending

a chant echoes into the open:

 

It brings in rays of maximum heat,

sets my name

               on fire.

 

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Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Our Poetry Archive” June 2018

https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2018/06/allison-grayhurst.html

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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