Water Wings

 By Allison Grayhurt

Taking off my water wings

soon

maybe in a year or two,

maybe in ten

I will front crawl

fast to the edge, go under, somersault,

push off and speed,

or climb the high diving board,

up the steep metal steps, gripping

tightly, half-way there to the edge, three quarters then

race and leap, arms outstretched, thumbs locked and

going down, hitting the water fast, gliding across

the whole of the deep end.

Letting go of spiritual infancy, primitive

magic-tricks that sometimes worked,

most of the time, didn’t,

to soothe my anxiety, needing

the evidence of God, instead

of trusting faithfully, fully

- water wings off, front-crawl free.

* 

Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. Five times nominated for “Best of the Net”, 2015/2017/2018, she has over 1260 poems published in over 500 international journals. She has 21 published books of poetry, six collections and six chapbooks. She lives in Toronto with her family. She also sculpts, working with clay; www.allisongrayhurst.com

*

Next: