Because it is a Stone

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Because it is a Stone

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Because it is a stone

the fire hits it, moves around,

changing shape like a wave.

 

Because grief is not a word

that counts footsteps or encapsulates

the butcher’s madness, just builds like

a deep stagnant pool of a pond – one drop,

one drop, rising.

 

Because all the vegetables have not been picked through,

and more people hold compassion than they do hate,

the tree can grow, the fountain can flow up and make

a statement of solidarity, a sound

peaceful to those who are near.

 

Because the robin keeps coming back

to sit on my lawn, stares at me and waits

for my greeting before moving on.

 

Because hope is red eyes stinging,

but sight unimpaired,

and the darkening shadows darkening

the day-to-day landscape drift –

sometimes far away.

 

Because there is early morning, peppermint tea,

and love abides in everything living,

I can walk another step, another day,

bury the corpse of a treasured friend,

and place something beautiful

(a stone, a whisper) beside the grave.

 

 

 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Synchronized Chaos” September 2018

https://synchchaos.com/poetry-from-allison-grayhurst-7/

https://synchchaos.com/synchronized-chaos-september-2018/

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Published in “Chicago Record Magazine” August 2018

https://magazine-record.blogspot.com/2018/08/normal-0-false-false-false-en-us-x-none_16.html

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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Lumin

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Lumin

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One of the greatest souls I ever met

was in the body of a rat.

She was pure and noble, dissolved

in gentle love, a smooth essence, easy

to dive into.

      Her name was Lumin- named by my son

after the Shaolin clan virtue Focus.

In truth, it may sound crazy, something many

would smirk at or mock – but here she was –

holding an infinity of tenderness in her rat eyes,

every day, every night with her rat toes, her Dumbo ears

and her rat tail.

      She had a brain tumour and lived a year with it –

recovering five times from the brink of death, holding space

in the chair, giving up her seat on the throne to stay with us.

Every night for hours we stayed together, often

just looking into each other’s eyes.

      No one could know. I could have never guessed

that I would love a rat this much,

that such an untroubled expansive heart

could dwell in one so small, so shunned and disrespected.

      She loved and was able to receive love

like a child with her mother.

She saved my son during two years of teenage despair.

That was her music. There was nothing hard in her, nothing

that did not soften into joy- even when she was ill.

When she died

 

five minutes she struggled, panicked, lunging for breath.

My hands went on her. I prayed for God

to intervene with mercy.

For five more minutes she stopped lunging, was at ease,

gasping slightly, then stopped gasping

and the light radiated through and around her body,

and her breath and the beating of her chest stopped. Now

she is at rest, delighting fully in the wave.

 

      One of the greatest friends I have ever had was a rat.

And I have and have lost many friends in many body forms –

she was a shrine of layered clarity and kindness. She

was a great being, a resting point in God’s creation.

      One of the greatest souls I have ever met

was in the body of a rat.

 

Please listen. please understand. Holy. Holy. Holy halleluiah.

We are all joined.

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 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Outlaw Poetry” July 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/lumin-by-allison-grayhurst/

https://outlawpoetry.com/category/allison-grayhurst/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below: