Sweet and long
is the blooming tide
to take me over the dam,
pushing me down the waterfall,
graduating to reckless exhilaration.
I belong to the tender aftermath
the peace of the freed captive,
the relief that lies in wait
of every oblivious soul.
I belong to the late-spring fields
and the baptism of butterflies.
I will take no misdeeds with me
to this elevated service.
I will cut out the tongue
of any discovered demon,
let them know
they have no resources
Copyright © 2022 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “New Mystics” July 2022
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: