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.

Become a Sustaining Donor This September

Between the reemergence of right-wing red-baiting and Donald Trump’s use of the chilling National Security Presidential Memorandum–7 to criminalize left political organizing, we’re seeing McCarthyism reborn before our eyes.

This assault on democracy cannot be ignored or wished away. Resisting it requires bravery in the face of threats and repression, a steadfast commitment to the truth, and the unwavering belief that we can—and will—overcome this darkness.

We must have an independent media that sets the record straight, unearths corruption and abuses of power, and advances a politics of justice and dignity for all if we’re to win this fight.

That’s why I’m writing to you today. This September, The Nation needs to add 100 monthly donors to sustain our progressive journalism. Your contribution makes the next investigative report, the next truth-speaking column, and the next pathbreaking essay all possible. 

I hope you’ll support our work with a recurring donation today. If you donate $10 or more a month, we’ll send you a brand new “Hands Off the Free Press!” sticker to recognise your commitment to our cause. Please, donate today. 

Onward,

Katrina vanden Heuvel
Editor and Publisher, The Nation

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

A view of the US flag on the field during the national anthem before a game between the New York Giants and the Dallas Cowboys at Cowboys Stadium in Arlington, Texas, on September 20, 2009.

America Without the NFL America Without the NFL

Chuck Klosterman’s Football is a eulogy for the sport on the eve of its decline.

Books & the Arts / Zito Madu

Edward Said

Edward Said: Between Worlds Edward Said: Between Worlds

A new film biography depicts the Palestinian writer as still out of place—and ahead of his time. 

D.D. Guttenplan

Imani Thompson’s Grad-School Thriller

Imani Thompson’s Grad-School Thriller Imani Thompson’s Grad-School Thriller

In Honey, the novelist offers a different take on the campus satire.

Books & the Arts / Edna Bonhomme

Love and Literature in Leslie Fiedler’s America

Love and Literature in Leslie Fiedler’s America Love and Literature in Leslie Fiedler’s America

When will the American novel grow up?

Books & the Arts / Vivian Gornick