Now I think of you
when the pears are darkening
on the kitchen table and hardly an animal
wanders through the trees in nights
of starless black.
I think of you when I hear the
glory of a child’s excited cry
or see a cat’s half-closed eyes,
brimming with proud independence.
I think of the Ontario lake, silver-toned
and maddened during a winter storm.
I think of a delicate strand of grass
or a smooth stone that has known the
caress of many human fingers.
I think of you like I do a sadness and longing
held together with unflinching peace, held
I think you are good like the air is good,
and a branch that has fallen to the ground or
a dying butterfly.
I think you have moved me
like a wave that has swallowed my flesh
and washed my eyes in clay
to be reborn, sensuously devouring.
Copyright © 1994 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Print Verite”, 1994
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“Allison’s poetic prose is insightful, enwrapping, illuminating and brutally truthful. It probes the nature of the human spirit, relationships, spirituality and God. It is sung as the clearest song is sung within a cathedral by choir. It is whispered as faintly as a heartbroken goodbye. It is alive with the life of a thousand birds in flight within the first glint of morning sun. It is as solemn as the sad-sung ballad of a noble death. Read at your peril. You will never look at this world in quite the same way again. Your eye will instinctively search the sky for eagles and scan the dark earth for the slightest movement of smallest ant, your heart will reach for tall mountains, bathe in the most intimate of passions and in the grain and grit of our earth. Such is Allison Grayhurst. Such is her poetry,” Eric M. Vogt, poet and author.