Poems / March 16, 2026

Until All That Was Left Was a Voice

Geffrey Davis

I.

Fear wanted my name sealed within

A question not even my bluest instinct
Could unfold. But then the wind began to flutter

The first bright image I heard make the darkness sing.

To think, before this, I felt ready to lose the miracle
Of adding a few quiet feathers to the heart.

To think: I trusted that silence was my destiny.

***

You’ve believed before that your destiny was with silence.

Then a wanting suddenly feathered this bright instinct
Already added to your name, a windy heart

No question will seal or quiet, the bluest flutter.

Nothing can undo the miracle of hearing
What has yet to unfold. Trust what you began:

Only you can make your darkness sing.

II.

To banish that empty kind of praying, I try

Tilting this pain-invented loudness from my breath.
I swear a new season lives there. I hear it humming

With every reason to make the rain into an answer.

Whether I speak or stay silent, I desire
The good promise in each body to continue.

The sky is where I choose to look now.

***

Don’t forget the sky’s answer inside you,

Each rain-cloud kind of humming
With breath. Whether tried or tilted,

The right prayer will invent a new reason

Not to banish the good body still living there.
You can choose to hear it now, every season,

This emptying of any knowing that promises pain.

III.

I only mention more birds for the music

To soften the hurt of all connection. But shame would
Aim the infinity of my mind at another dead return

Failed by light. Sometimes, too many stilled wings

Rhyme with “never”—my limbs going so numb
Remembering what the hunch in my back couldn’t make

Stony or clear. I’m waiting for this to sound like safety…

***

To be clear and unmoved: your own listening is becoming a softness…

Even when reviving a dead hunch still drowning in blame,
You’ve never been known to mention a failure that couldn’t hold

The music of safety. If aimed at infinity, your mind remembers

Some numbed desires will rhyme with a hurt bird’s return—
But only to find the hymn for calling back more

Of the banished light. It sounds like many, many wings.

Geffrey Davis

Geffrey Davis is the author of One Wild Word Away and Night Angler, winner of Academy of American Poets’ James Laughlin Award. Davis teaches at University of Arkansas and The Rainier Writing Workshop.

More from The Nation

Still from “The Odyssey.”

Do Epics Need Heroes? Do Epics Need Heroes?

In recent years, the online right has contested adaptations of epic in order to make an argument about masculinity. The Odyssey is their latest target.

Orlando Reade

Silhouette of woman in a nightclub

A Rave Novel Rediscovered A Rave Novel Rediscovered

Ann Scott’s “Superstars” captures the last gasp of pre-Internet counterculture.

Books & the Arts / Max Pearl

Samuel Daniell, “Boers Returning From Hunting.”

What J.M. Coetzee Can Teach Us About ICE What J.M. Coetzee Can Teach Us About ICE

The world inside the South African novelist’s Waiting for the Barbarians bears striking resemblance to Trump’s racist empire.

Pamela Newton

Matt Damon as Odysseus in “The Odyssey.”

Impale and Cry: Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey” Impale and Cry: Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey”

In the latest rendering of the epic, there is plenty to feel guilty about even if you did not mean it.

Books & the Arts / Christian Lorentzen

Odyssey

Nolan’s “Odyssey” Misses the Point Nolan’s “Odyssey” Misses the Point

The big-budget movie keeps much of the violence and spectacle but none of the nuance and wit of the classical epic.

Katha Pollitt

Reform UK leader Nigel Farage (right) is interviewed by Jordan Peterson at the annual conference of the Alliance for Responsible Citizenship in London, February 18, 2025.

What’s So Scary About the Frankfurt School? What’s So Scary About the Frankfurt School?

In The Cultural Marxism Conspiracy, A.J.A. Woods looks at how the Frankfurt scholars became the latest bogeymen for the contemporary right.

Books & the Arts / Michael Shorris