Caterpillars over the sensuous lawn.
Starlings in and out of clouds.
A man with a cane on his own
trailing the sidewalk curves.
Put-put-put goes the Earth’s sorrow
as the ravaged instinct of humanity is
bundled up in winter’s old furs.
Bending now to the sound of traffic.
This is the miracle – that we never see it coming. The End
is always with us. It is the skin of existence, it bleats inside
the food we ingest.
A bug makes for the bush.
A dog is unsure of which master to please.
One man lies drunk on his front porch,
as the cherry trees are starting to blossom.
Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “The Miscreant, Issue 6”, July 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.