It doesn’t matter what field
you run on, or who has your shoes.
All that matters is that you keep moving
over the hardly visited terrain where garden snakes
and mosquitoes thrive. None of them will kill you,
only blister your stride and then
you will be free of the field, free of running.
You can rest on a wide small hill – look out over
the sky and know you made it – barefooted, bug bitten
but accomplished. You said your prayers
of forgiveness, blushed at your own anger then let it go
as you were running through that field – more
ethereal than not, more heartbroken than not.
You ran (yourself a miracle) emptied, hurt, but
persistent. And now, the hill is your home, cupping
you gently in its surrounding breeze.
Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Literary Yard” 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.
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.