What Hands Can Hold


What Hands Can Hold


I will not cry today

the teardrops of saints.

Tomorrow I will not

lay my body flat on the road

for the dove’s passing.


God’s features

are vast as the sands.

No life is dead

to private dreams.


The sea sings its own

rhyming fury.

The eagle takes dust and wind


under its wings.


Who feeds the raging

lion’s mouth?

Who weeps for the insect’s accidental

death? Are the angels too great for

these? And our human hands,

are they too meager to

accept these small mercies,

these common miracles,


as we watch friends perish

and the pendulum-tides leap

and devour,

offering no reward

to the drowned

nor saved?



Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst


For Every Rain Cover 5



Published in “The Peregrine Muse” July 2017



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


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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