In a murky limpid place

you speak to me, vanquish my

anxieties with your radiant flame,

speak and say

the circumference is the sphere, is the line

and the space beyond

the sphere.


Cruelty is natural, mercy takes effort,

choice, consciousness.

Accepting mercy takes even more, a leap

out of the perpetual karma-shadows, a daring

to be without a past or a people or pebble stones

in your shoes.


You speak and say

succumb, and I will take your greed of self-knowledge,

all of your knowing, intelligence, reduce it to vapour,

collapse your preconceptions with the tranquility of

the first morning, and you will praise me with the wonder

of all who are newborn, without guise or storages.


Fall down, you say, to your hands and knees.

Look up, you say, to the charity of the sky.

Your being that was before is burned.


You say, love,

and I will be your restitution,

your water, your vortex, your art.



Copyright © 2021 by Allison Grayhurst



Published in “ILA Magazine – Feature Poet” September 2021



First published in “Chicago Record Magazine” March 2021



You can listen to this poem by clicking the link below:

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