It is in the bite
in the loins, born
from a deeper urgency
than the stuff outside the window.
This season is split,
it mends nothing and breaks
only that which has already been broken.
The rabid sorrow that has no voice
but lurks like a scream through
the corridors of the body.
It has been so long – the same cloud
latched to our roof, the same cry
of indignation and then pleading.
We have held out for release but the pressure
is locked and we must bear the journey.
We are left with the many devices of coping –
sure of God and nothing more.
Copyright © 2006 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “The Peregrine Muse” December 2016
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™.