PoetryMagazine.com
Allison Grayhurst
Page 2
On
Solid Ground
Beyond the chiselled-out hole,
beyond the seed that died on fertile ground
and the inseparable mourning doves (looked at but never noticed)
meaning will be restored, maybe never grasped,
but down deep the turbulent waters will cease
and the chaos that reigns where there should have been love
will only be the surface coat, will be a storm
outside that cannot touch me in my house of
mercy or scratch at the scar in my open eyes.
Meaning is here because I choose God, and in doing
so, I am chosen. God will be more than just my rescue,
will be by Kabala spelled out in simple form… all mysteries
made real, tangible as a soulmate’s kiss. God is now the pin
in this gloomy bubble, the reliever of senselessness,
the groom that dispels any doubt. God hold me
strongly in this place, provide me a horse to sit upon -
here with my companion where there is a loyalty between us
that no despair can swallow. There is a connection that grows, that
I know
angels and other heavenly creatures
will rush to defend.
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