How will I find myself again
when I am halfway from the ground,
among these walls of pictures
and uncertain echoes, with frames
on all sides of what I am suppose to be,
but never detailing the fury of my yesterdays?
Maybe there is no voice, only once
the sea, and then a wet blot of sand shaped by
the memory of pull and tug.
Maybe I steered myself under the rails,
and the field that was to be my toil is parched,
acres of hair-lipped unmanageable dreams.
How am I to find myself this way,
giving no fruit to my appetite, lucid
but slumbering through another decade,
so full of rudimentary contradictions?
Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Temporary Lunatic Literary Zine”, November 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.