The line in front
is the line crossed
then left to rot under
the blazing day. The other side
is not to be feared but held
up like an appreciated toy.
The way out the door
is the door your father gave you when he died
and placed death’s rattle under your pillow
for the rest of your days. It is the door
that won’t let you forget
how short a season life is.
The chain around your neck
is a chain of small but frequent miracles
that has sustained and held poverty at bay.
It is to be counted on when the last of the nectar
has been spilled on the rug and indifference consumes
the eyes of friend and kin like roundworm, there
even in the most difficult of barren
Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Dead Snakes”
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.