Who hides the shape of the sun,
sleeping in fear with ribs more
than broken? The war, the half-heaven
half-hell syndrome of the spiraling bird,
in an array of glorious plumage.
Who cries as beautiful as a song,
longing for the uncommon, a lamp
of soulmate proportion? Whose cry will be heard,
received, altered like fire is altered
by water and water is altered by fire – the old burn
extinguished, transformed into something light,
capable of rising upward, spreading
across the sky? When will God give us air,
take our hands and run with us?
God, we are waiting for you
to knock on our door, we are anticipating your footsteps.
Show us something of destiny. There is more here
than what is whole.
Copyright © 2010 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “1947 a literary journal” June 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™.