When I Go

When I Go

Grace Shaw

Matthew 28:20

Find me behind you,
wide as a violet bruise
across the wrist of the sky
inviting you, finally,
to confide. I am not

rising blind as morning
webs of mist. If you
are waiting too quietly,
you will miss me:

My spirit teems green
like spring leaves
on trees follow flowers.

If you write
in the rye grass,
I will reply.

Hear me, the beat
in everything. 

Don’t think of me
as going—

I am through you

as bone through
a bluebird’s wing.

---

Grace Shaw
Poet

Grace is an emerging poet with work also appearing in Fathom Magazine and Reformed Journal. Her poem “Say It Like Flowers" recently won the Audience Choice Award for the 2022 Bright Wings Poetry Contest. You can keep up with her at graceshawpoetry.com. 

Photography by Clay Banks