I open myself to the obsidian stone.
It is too much to lose myself in its
shiny warm darkness, so I press it
to my heart, I press my private light
into its own greenish dark sheen.
Love is coming. Like a tree in the winter wind
of twilight, it speaks to me. It charms my wound,
sings to me of abundance. Love is
on my doorstep, like a fully-fed child, giggling
at the playing squirrels.
Thank you morning for finally arriving.
It has been so cold. And these frostbite talismans
will be mine forever. But grace is no longer
a ghost, but something pure and solid, something I can
swallow. Grace has made its way inside and
the bells of welcoming relief
are ringing, ringing.
Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Ginosko Literary Journal, Issue 16” 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.