Overall I name the winter
mine. I took the sleeping bird
and let her rest away from the cold.
I opened my eyes to the kindred
shapes of mercy, and found myself reborn.
I held my past inside a thimble
to watch from an impersonal distance.
There I saw a land of curious blood
where death was light, and I listened to the blessings
of faith in its haven of broken wishbones.
There I ate the berries and tasted sand
between my teeth. Like love revisited
inside a prayer, my tale could mount
the beat of the sea and count the waves
of darkness untold. But here in this drift
my petals fade and I grieve my walk without fire
and the tongue caress of the growing soot.
But terror is frail and my vows have shown
to be more than ambition.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” March 2015
You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
“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.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.