I sit inside a tent
needing what I cannot drink.
I grieve the lost passion of my prayers
and the solid breath of death’s
Tracing the fantastic light
of giant love that crushes chaos
with each monstrous embrace,
I taste him. I cannot help
feeling his fears like
a hated obstacle, his forehead like
an impassable field, full of his mind’s
I sit within this tent, in a trance-like gloom.
I grieve his love that cannot bend . . .
yet tender still
is his smile.
Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” January 2017
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.