When first I cried
stripped of all I owned,
the weather hammered further
into the marrow of my bones,
hammered until each splinter I swallowed
as a plea of hope and on my knees a
grey colour I was fixed.
Bowing like Job without his trust,
defying the ground that sustained me,
the love that soothed me, defying all
but the death and the guillotine mercy.
When second I cried,
I was not born a hero,
but happily released of my load,
I quickened my speed
and latched on to any shore.
When third I cried,
the answer came, giving choice,
demanding my house and rooms of many moods.
It came like a great and potent
ache of awakening, murdering
my self with its beauty.
When fourth I cried
I returned, still the same, but not
the same, having now a foundation
and a summit to guide and to strive
my whole lifetime to attain.
Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Northern Cardinal Review”
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“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.