He dressed her with forgiveness
in the gold shadows
seeking death, seeking the
of God. Under
the weight of his wings, into some
starless summit they rose, clasping
limbs with alien abandon. Each rich
with superstition, as in the forest
poured from the tip of each tree,
from the tongues of black bears and insects
They held, waiting for too bright
a birth between them, waiting for the
magic to merge
their pain into one great beginning.
Like the thighs of angels in flight,
cut the warring air and smashed against the sky
into gales of
colour, into streams
of happy endings as they
dropped like a flood
at the feet
of death, and love
began to weave
their astounded skins.
Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “New Hope International Writing”, 1995
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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.