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Without Hunger
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I shed the skin of my appendages,
I call my name a song
and count each familiar note.
I found a friend under a chestnut tree,
needing time before declaring our bond.
I caressed a horse’s upper lip
and loved him like my own.
On foot, I travelled my life,
listening to secrets from the crows.
And love discovered me in the shape of a man.
In his burning depths he brought me home.
He is the flesh of my hand touching,
my waking eye and the dipping of my roots into
water. Together, we formed a child, blue
like twilight’s blue, like the coat of a rippling river.
Together we come alive by her smile.
In a foreign wood the lilies bloom, the snows
of winter thawed, promises are kept and
the broken bones of passion are mended
like a piece of ancient art.
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Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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.First published in “Winamop” January 2017
http://winamop.com/latest.htm#081216
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.You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
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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.
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Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.