Poetry, Aisha Allinson
A Walk in The Park
My life was changed, when I went for a walk in the park.
As it does.
The flickering sunlight
Glances off spring leaves that glow with the knowledge of time.
the Hum of the wind carries unhurried voices
Of loved ones. And I am changed.
I think of the interactions between millions of years of nature–
How they have All led up to this moment, with This specific baby shrieking
in harmony with That specific bird. And I am changed.
I see a family, on the hill by which I stopped to sit.
I offer to take their photo.
It is their first time visiting me out here, and they are not staying long,
The daughter tells me in thanks. I’m so grateful to see them.
My heart blooms. Oh, that’s lovely, I say. And I am changed.
They leave, scrolling through my photos.
I go and feed the ducks.
Who could be the same after all of that?
~
My God
I
You look down at your hands, clasped in prayer–
In communion with Self, with God. (With Someone.)
You’ve often thought
About how you were taught to join your hands to pray:
To kneel before a marble deity
Holding onto yourself the same way you would a friend, a lover.
Seeking comfort. Connection.
You understand the cool wave of calm that should come with divine intimacy
The innate knowing of Self that follows.
You wait for it
You are a beggar.
II
You feel the eyes of your mother, who nudges you gently.
Always worrying.
You nod, lean on her shoulder for a moment,
your head following her exhale. Then,
An expanding Warmth within your chest,
Diffusing across your breast and collarbone.
this Warmth that follows mortal intimacy–
A signifier that you have learned how to love another.
You straighten, the Warmth quieting
but still present, always present.
In some ways, you think, your connection is religious.
Aisha Allinson (she/her) is a writer from Sheffield, studying English in Manchester. She likes Emily Dickinson’s poetry, the colour purple, and is in perpetual waiting for Frank Ocean’s return to music. She can be found on Instagram @aishaniamh