With a mother’s lips
I felt the ceremony of the stars
soothe my tired throat.
I felt the sun’s fire in my hand
when I bent in the direction of tomorrow.
My child is like
a choir at my doorstep,
seducing my joy with her own.
My child is without enemies
or days, having no secrets from those
she loves. She can carve a jewel
from a crayon, and with her first embrace,
she sanctifies each morning.
With a mother’s heart
I tell the fruitflies of my blessing.
Money and mortality
cannot be true, but only
the music in her grey eyes, and the movement
of her small hands at play.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Ygdrasil – A Journal of the Poetic Arts, VOL XXIII, Issue 4” under the title “My Child”
Published in “Think Pink, Issue 2” Pink.Girl.Ink. Press, May 2015
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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.