Temple
Expanding, raw and pulsing
like newborns that grow into
individuals of their own
from one source
of everlasting literature.
From a cave of damp demise or
from violent fires, stoning heroes, forging heroes,
never quite sure who the enemy is.
From a journey of fantastical obstacles,
no mistakes made to stop and graze
and settle for anything but home.
Others have felt this eternal wealth of inspiration,
drank at its well and spoke –
making more riches, forests where feet
can travel and be in awe.
And from those others, still more have come –
one line flowing from the beginning.
O Ilium and Ithaca!
The same stars spinning.
Our beautiful Earth rest in you –
devotion, cunning and courage.
Love matters, but these things
which are the actions born from love
matter more.
Your fire is bright, brighter than
your ancient sun, has rhythm, repetition,
has harvested a hymn, etched permanently
in the foliage of our collective souls –
strong shoulders, driftwood, the first breath-cry
poet-bard.
Copyright © 2020 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
.
.
First published in “Raven Cage Zine” August 2020
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1oDO3JF0w_ADaDcGM92uEvfSgLWZR-RqM/view
.
.
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
