Death is losing all limitations.
Death is the yellowed photo and the
atlas burned. Death I have seen
in the old and young,
in animal’s eyes and when
the spring permeates the ground.
Each death is different,
some only wound, others alter
the chemistry of the marrow. Some are long
like a cloud passing over an already grey sky and some
are quick as a terrorist’s bomb
or a tiger’s tearing jaws.
Before I fall asleep, stormy carcasses fill my room,
but it is not bad weather, only the afterglow
of so much sunshine. Love bonds beyond
the clammy cheeks and the greying mouth.
Maybe now the dead fully understand what was once too
foreign for the living to fit through.
Maybe now the complete connection can occur,
and death turns wonderful and sweet
when we hover above the insanity of loss
and inexpressible grief.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “TwitchFit Lit Writing Zine” November 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™.