Under the guise
of do or die
the heart’s mystery is born.
And then accepted
as an afterthought
when pain and struggle are foregone.
Because faith came like it did
from the tape recorder and other
underrated things, I could never speak
in whole of the dreams that drove me to love
nor appease the breath of death on
I could never will the tomato to ripen
or quench my thirst with social talk.
The nail is in the wood and still I wonder
why I am, on my own
on the world’s platform
– a gift
to no one.
Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Boston Poetry Magazine”
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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.