They are in the hospitals
They are under the eucalyptus trees
They are in the anniversary cakes
They are in the stone-hedged mansions
gossiping on the latest idea
to muse over with their delicate, pale hands.
At the end of heaven’s domain
they celebrate entrance into the market place
where they arrive with their wings,
proud and evasive.
Too large to drown
in the gloomy crowded faces,
so they soar between the sheep herd
in that superior altitude.
The wind fingers them with its wet tongue.
Unharmed, they rock
over the body of the weeping sky,
searching for something beyond
conclusions or ecstasy.
The artists tilt, shipwrecked next to them:
Locked on horizons of unresolved beauty.
Some days their eyes close and the flute touches the pen
with explosive unity, with ancient embrace.
As far apart as the ghost and the angel, they edge inside
the artist’s heart, just to feel
the skinless souls
of love makers.
Copyright © 1991 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “Sacred Chickens” August 2017
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Grayhurst’s rapturous outpouring of imagery makes her poems easily enjoyable … Like a sear the poet seeks to fathom sensual and spiritual experience through the images of a dream.” Canadian Literature
“Allison Grayhurst’s Common Dream is a massive book by a talented and enthusiastic young writer, with a feel for descriptive, meaningful verse. Philosophical and very deep,” Paul Rance, editor of Eastern Rainbow, U.K., spring 1993.
“Her poems read like the journal entries of a mystic – perhaps that what they are. They are abstract and vivid, like a dreamy manifestation of soul. This is the best way, in prose, one can describe the music which is … the poetry of Allison Grayhurst,” Blaise Wigglesworth Oh! Magazine
“Rich images and complex, shifting metaphors drive Allison Grayhurst’s poems. She focuses on sexual love and interior landscapes, widening to include the heart, eternity and all.” Next Exit