In Order That I Might Live


Holly Grantham -That I Might Live3

You know the way the wind begins to shift direction
once the earth tilts boldly
towards the sun
How the orange light becomes all liquid
Pooling where once there was shadow
Its abundance spilling further and further into
And how slowly, the ground begins to rise
Swelling with anticipation

It is then I throw open the windows
The air inside has staled from all
the pent up breathing at the glass and
all the snuffed out flames
lit as weapons against the
interminable dark
I need to know that there is more
That life has not fallen asleep

It is then that I walk barefoot
in the grass again
Turn my face towards the morning light
that slants long and thick
through the trees
Smell the musk of dirt
and dew
and fresh life
It is then that I am, once again

Being open is
at once daring
It is awareness laced with abandon
It is, in fact, how the light gets in
after one has been shrouded
in darkness

I often wonder
how I can truly be open
How can this body
split at the seams to make room for growth
when a whole life has lived beneath that skin
What must die
in order
that I might live