Chalice
I want to empty my chalice of grief,
and be like the neighbor’s two dogs
early this morning unleashed
on the warm and sun-strewn beach,
so alive in their streamlined bodies,
running, sniffing, circling,
as if they’d never seen sand before,
as if the earth were new, and meant for frolic,
as if the only purpose in life were to stir
uncontainable, everlasting, mirth.
*
Donna Hilbert’s latest book is Enormous Blue Umbrella, Moon Tide Press, 2025. Work has appeared in journals and broadcasts including Eclectica, Gyroscope, Rattle, Sheila Na Gig, ONE ART, Cholla Needles, TSPoetry, VerseDaily, Vox Populi, The Writer’s Almanac, anthologies including Boomer Girls, The Widows’ Handbook, The Poetry of Presence I & II, The Path to Kindness, The Wonder of Small Things, Love Is For All Of Us, What the House Knows, Poetry Goes The Movies. She writes and leads workshops from her home base in Long Beach, California.
Wonderful poem.
Reading this spiritual poem, I feel like one of those dogs on the beach–my joy “uncontainable.” Thank you, Donna.
Great poem!
Loving the wild joy of this piece!
You captured the joy of dogs in such a contagious way – I needed that. Thank you, Donna.
Thank you all for the kind comments!
Beautiful poem. Thank you ❤️