A fountain sits
in the centre of my backyard,
watering and shading the mourning doves
pecking at the dirt below.
Yet I am deep in a hazardous denial,
giving weight to an illusion that
bonds me to the desert and
sand dunes rolling as far
as my eyes can see.
So deep I cannot see the fountain
or the backyard or
the delicate joy of choice.
Today I will make a decision
step onto the platform
and take my chances.
In this place, this quiet morning,
I will feel myself changed, unchained.
Then, I will start to dig into the sands
until I find a wetness burning, keep digging
until I release a rising flow,
a personal permanent resurrection.
Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “The Wise Owl – Ochre Edition” July 2022
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: