|
By Abigail Leigh Stripped of vision, I fumble on the cliff-edge against the rush and roar of ocean armies—feud for foothold salt and wind biting my eyes And my outer self rips away-- A tremor shifts the mountain, my faith too just like my legs, my spirit folds in on itself; ground and grief piling on top. Into the abyss I dive interrogate shadows, excavate for answers. What’s unveiled—earth’s veil the heavens dawning as morning light like brightness after rain an imperishable promise sprouting over an impermanent problem For a weighted world: eternity—light And this assured insurance dispels disbelief Suddenly, bowed valleys rise up laden stones roll away a path through the sea—revealed uncrushed, my soul walks forward does not grow weary. I am binding hope to my heart: over that hill I will be, eyes stretched, waiting-- And behold, a beacon across open sea, seen ascending, glorious! The power of the waves The throat of the wind The promised sun—rising! You are there, God You are here. Abigail Leigh is a harpist and poet from Oregon. As a self-proclaimed paradox, both a creative and analytical being, she draws inspiration from life's dichotomies: the belief that light and darkness, growth and decay, and joy and sorrow travel in tandem. Every season has a story to tell, and she writes because she is committed to unveiling truth from learned experiences. Her poetry has been published in Darling Magazine, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Equinox Biannual Journal and Clayjar Review.
Abigail's other work on Foreshadow: A Deeper Calling (Poetry, October 2022) The Mountain Sermon (Poetry, October 2022) The Fruitless Tenant (Poetry, October 2022) Please support us by sharing this post or buying us a book.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |