We arrive at the mountain’s artery,
here in heaven’s wind, not bending,
not drowning but tall as the mountain
We are intact from this decade-season
of insects and peril. Grief is not in our
arms nor is the locust’s bitter bite.
We are content on this rock, replenished
by each other’s kindness and by
our children’s uncommon smiles.
We have lived with this thirst for so long and now
we are almost overflowing, not wanting or
tight-throat or quarantined by poverty’s
We give our thanks at this place
of somewhere over the threshold.
We have light, we have octagon curves.
Everything is lengthening, lifting
like a hangman’s hood.
Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “A New Ulster, Issue 35” August 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.