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Making Love

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Was this the happiness

conceived, to fly

through the porcelain

shapes of these unutterable days,

to strive for love, overloaded

with longing and reality’s

dumbstruck call?

 

On Earth, or in the space

we cannot grow enough to cross,

I hold you. You are my language

dying to be born.

You are the one I will never recover from,

the only companion my heart has known.

 

I cannot envy the stars, or

the soft-spoken trees.

For there is landscape

enough, here beside you,

where all of heaven’s disguises

glow bright,

transparent.

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Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst

 amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Reach” 1994

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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“Somewhere Falling has a richness of imagery and an intensity of emotion rare in contemporary poetry. Drawn in sharp outlines of light and darkness, and rich shades of colour, with a deep sense of loss and longing and the possibility of salvation, this is an unusual book by a gifted young poet. Grayhurst’s voice is one to which we should continue to pay attention.” — Maggie Helwig, author of Apocalypse Jazz and Eating Glass.

“Responsibility and passion don’t often go together, especially in the work of a young poet. Allison Grayhurst combines them in audacious ways. Somewhere Falling is a grave, yet sensuous book.” – Mark Abley, author of Glasburyon and Blue Sand, Blue Moon.

“Biting into the clouds and bones of desire and devotion, love and grief, Allison Grayhurst basks the reader, with breathtaking eloquence, in an elixir of words. Like lace, the elegance is revealed by what isn’t said. This is stunning poetry.” – Angela Hryniuk, author of no visual scars.

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