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Grazing on the flow

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        Devouring permanence,

feeling victory, our vanity

disintegrating like my grandfather’s did

travelling on eastern train tracks, king of his meadow.

        The passage between structure and collapse carries us,

is the flowing force that pierces oblivion – a drink

of clean water, a seductive neck pulse courting emergence.

        I know we have hit bottom, but

we keep sinking like thorns into flesh,

like dew into the puny pores of a leaf.

        Between us is the vantage point, where we see

angels contemplating on dead planets, using those planets

to echo their private songs,

swelling and sobbing, gathering rocks

to remain heavy enough not to float back

into the mouth of God.  

          Entropy is a shattered equation. The moon creaks

 and splits, absorbing humanity’s disappointment.

Our gifts rise up mute – balloons let loose on a drizzling day.

         I love you under water where I like looking

into your eyes. I love what is between us when truth does not torment,

when I imagine our paths like my grandfather’s

when he rode, relinquishing status, etching out his destiny

on a brokendown caboose, offering jewels of coal.

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Copyright 2012 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “The Milo Review”, Volume 1, Issue 2, Fall 2013

 

 

   

 

http://themiloreview.com/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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“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.

“Grayhurst is a great Canadian poet. All of Allison Grayhurst’s poetry is original, sometimes startling, and more often than not, powerful. Anyone who loves modern poetry that does not follow the common path will find Grayhurst complex, insightful, and as good a poet as anyone writing in the world today. Grayhurst’s poetry volumes are highly, highly recommended,” Tom Davis, poet, novelist and educator.

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