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:

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