I still think of you
in the morning,
when the winds play across telephone wires
and winter’s trees.
I carry your face before me
like a sacred chalice, or a goal I cannot reach.
There are things that have changed me,
but the loss of you has split me wide like
never before. I see colours differently. I touch
icicles and give up all other truths. I believe
you are still protecting me, and then I am lost
in the greyness of the sky. Your love is torn
from my side. And now I am altered, I am
adjusted. I am a scorpion walking the desert
sands. I am a gazelle near the waterhole. One day
I am free, then the pain returns like cancer.
I am carrying a child. I am your child
who wishes you could share this journey. But
death has taken your hand. And somehow I know,
darkness is not all.
Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “The Stray Branch Fall/Winter 2016” October 2016
First published in “Novelmasters” April 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™.