Let it come like the wave with
the salty foam. Let it reflect
my insides like a face held towards
new cutlery. Let it take my rhythm for
its own, express it in the wings of angry crows
and the trees in communion with the wind.
Let it steel my lover for four nights,
leave my bed an empty socket for all my
demons to gather and join. Let it hurl
a fist at the clock, at the pressure of duty
and guilt I should not feel. Let it mimic
my cries at the corner store where a woman
sits on a curb, crazy with undirected grief.
Let it be in the eyes of my cat as he stalks
the birds in his mind.
Let me kneel before it in my room,
and tell my husband what I have found.
Let it be like a fledgling in the morning singing
or like a wound that alters my appearance.
Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “the chicago record magazine” August 2015 and in “Wicked Sixe’s”, Fall 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™.