Two hands unable to sing,
and visions burned by the lack
of time. The sensation of clay
under my fingernails,
the smooth and malleable unconscious dream
pure as lovemaking,
rich as a four-course meal.
It spells my name in its grey thick ointment,
calling me back to conceive a child.
It says, “after death and letting go, put back on
these worker’s clothes and bring glory to form”
Because it is time to open a window
and collect stories by the river.
It is time to alter the day, bring the
light back into my body.
It pulls me into its soft embrace,
and I think I am ready
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Indie Poets Indeed” 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.