I know the vines
that pin a desire to the dirt.
I walk the miles of compulsive despair
that laps all light from the stream.
I sit bound to the spot. In and out
of days with blood under my fingernails
and hands that can’t stay still.
Have I not given enough? Have I placed
meaning in the marketplace or belief
in the computer-screen throne
of inner Armageddon? Like a split
artichoke, my shadow lands on stone and on grass.
It is only shadow but heavy
in its dues.
Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Fogged Clarity”
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“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.