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Receiving

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Though I recognize kin

in a bird’s faultless face,

the world is wheel, is cold,

 

master of my open heart.

And out on the streets, away

from embraces, the sun

disturbs in its strength and independence.

 

People grow old

before my eyes,

stirred by nothing

but further comfort.

 

Fire cloud above – it is

this hunger, this old faith, old

as God. This faith so clean

I may go mad, harder than love

to bear:

 

Endless cutting down.

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Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Jones Av.”  1994

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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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.

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