You asked for a light
at the end of the tunnel
and was told
there is no light at the end
because you are the light
guiding your escape.
You are the living fresh-water fountain
you seek, the high rock in the ocean.
Then you were told there is no tunnel,
no distance between the dark and light.
There is pain and loyalty to that pain
and false hopes that claim us
like a deceitful friend plotting betrayal.
You were told to be glad at daybreak, when the battle
ensues. Against the rain, don’t have any secrets,
even let your own death be revealed.
You were told never stop longing for the clarity
of your spirit, give no one up to the slaughter,
eat only what does not scream or thrash.
If there is a high wall, climb.
If a steep incline, find a rope, tie a rope
and edge your way gently down.
You were told to make bread, give a loaf away
and you might never go hungry.
And even if you do go hungry, then hunger
is the season you are called to endure.
You asked for light at the end of the tunnel
and was told
six more days, then seven – open sail –
eventually the wind will wake, spare you
the cause of your consuming dread.
© 2018 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “BlogNostics” January 2019
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: