Building a Temple

Building a Temple



These words are a goodbye

to the dust-bowl chaos, a vision

to act by, pick up pebbles and throw

across a field, over a fence, almost

to the other side.


The angels make a wall protecting, bending

their bodies of light like shields

over my children, as they find their way

through uncertainties, undercurrents of terror

and the moon’s dropping glare.


Addiction in the ice.

Organs enflamed and removed.

But God’s love is merciful, takes us

to the threshold, but not beyond.

Secrets are exposed, talked about without shame,

and then are burnt.


Sometimes the storm creates a treasure,

a blooming happiness

after its destructive force.

Sometimes after the emptiness, there is finally

a conscious letting go, letting in

the zig-zag flight of finches.

Sometimes after

ghosts are silenced, pathways

are exposed, and hearts once harmed,

are now repaired, easily redeemed.




Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst



First published in “Synchronized Chaos” May 2022



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


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