I saw a fish in sleep
beneath a curly wave
dreaming in a prophet-trance,
its lips and fins relaxed, no resistance
against the water’s sway.
Some say the fish was dead,
but I could see its eyes enflamed,
traveling deep in a vision unnamed into
crevices of underwater caves, finding
peace in a pitch-black reverie.
I cupped that fish inside my hand
and still it did not move, continuing its
placid ephemeral journey,
now journeying into the sky,
able to breathe, transitioning
into flight and becoming intimate
with the sun’s heat like never before.
That fish was so far gone
into a state of transcendence as
I released it back into its salty wet home,
kissing it forehead first.
I felt it absorb my love
under its scales, floating away from me,
silver and white.
Tranquil, in steady rapture,
I watched it vanish as it rolled
across and under the oceans’ blanket,
as though it never was.
Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Ink Pantry” June 2022
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: