She opens up the cupboard door
and smiles the beautiful smile.
She moves across the hardwood floors,
focused as a hawk.
There is something in her I cannot touch,
that has lived long beyond her short ten months.
She claps her hands and passes the ball. She waves
goodbye and washes the stains from my heart.
She is calm as a resting lion cub,
sure of her place beneath the sun. She is
a good friend, marked by her own brand of humour
with a love so bright it strips anew
even the roots of my belonging.
Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “Moongate Motherbird” May 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™.