I Long To Know

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I Long To Know

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I long to know the things

I never dreamt

beneath the shingles

and the watered-down dawn.

I long to know the name

of every insect that brushes

my cheek and the passions

of days long gone.

I sit beside the narrow rocks

and count each weathered stone.

I hope for love inside a stranger

and long to feel with fingers and soul

the connecting thread

that binds me to my enemy’s door.

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Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst

3013

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Crisis Chronicles”

Crisis Chronicles I long to know 1Crisis Chronicles I long to know 2Crisis Chronicles 3Crisis Chronicles I long to know 5Crisis Chronicles I long to know 6Crisis Chronicles 4

http://library.crisischronicles.com/2014/04/01/i-long-to-know-by-allison-grayhurst.aspx

http://cclitmag.wordpress.com/category/grayhurst-allison/

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

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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.

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3 responses to “I Long To Know

  1. One of the most profound and simply put and sensually imaged longings I have ever read … the river, the stones, the desire.

    “I sit beside the narrow rocks
    and count each weathered stone.
    I hope for love inside a stranger
    and long to feel with fingers and soul
    the connecting thread
    that binds me to my enemy’s door.”

    Like

    • When I read your poem ‘I long to know’ a sense of nostalgia flooded me, for 23 years I have not been back to my homeland-when I sit by the lakeside or go on trail working anywhere in North America- I literally touch and count rocks, and wonder… why am I in a strange land? What is my connection here? I love the symbols of ‘fingers and soul’ I see fingers as my flesh-longing to touch, to feel, also trying to understand ‘ the connecting thread’ and my soul searching for the answers of whatever binds me to this place…thank you! jjf

      “I sit beside the narrow rocks
      and count each weathered stone.
      I hope for love inside a stranger
      and long to feel with fingers and soul
      the connecting thread
      that binds me to my enemy’s door.”

      Like

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