When the last tie is broken
and no mentor remains to walk
my hands through the mystery of clay,
and I am hit again by another sorrow,
losing one who has guided my eyes into seeing
a new, irrevocable way,
then the day will expose my passion and test
its worthiness. Then I will be called to answer
on my own and believe in the truth of my dedication.
To shape, to shadow and the sensual magic
that is sometimes caught in timeless moments
oblivious to thought, like walking within
a beautiful breeze and smelling the life inside
all the tiny animals. Like being at the place where
water and earth are like fingers massaging mud
into a vision – a weight
unattainable to the cerebral mind.
Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Ann Arbor Review”
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“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.
“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.