I am still in awe
of the deep delight that
rises in your eyes
like a constellation surfaces
from the thick flesh of dark night
and sings to me – ethereal,
images pounding the back of my mind,
breaking through the wet cemented barrier,
sure to drown me, incorporate me into its own.
You are magic, a wilderness
tempered with spiritual intelligence where
your genius sits on a throne, high above the
primal ground, directing each disruption into
an exuberant harmony, changing the dull light
of chaos into a living ceremony, pulsing
and sensually tearing the seams
– heightened evolution –
my truest friendship, your power is beautiful.
It never wanes or falters. I love you still
like at the beginning
when we found a field and twirled
in joyful abandon, knowing what we found
and what was to come. It is coming
again, a future without waste or holding back.
Your rich glory raging like
a storm-tossed sea.
You are tied to the resting point.
You are tied to the gravity
of the moon. You spread your arms.
I watch you receive, and then
I will watch what enfolds.
Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Fresh Words”, June 2022
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: