Forgive the Night
Let the heart peel
its iron crust.
Let the rainbow ribbon of this
coil around my neck.
I walk the fished-fumed streets,
with mask in one hand and thoughts
of resurrection in the other,
balanced between mercy and reality’s
Who will let me in, let me
name my thorn, give wing
to my smallest vision?
Alone, through May’s
ripened night, through the dusk light above.
Grief shifts understanding
to a higher octave, anchors it in soft ground.
My hood, my sting, alone
waiting a certain tomorrow
when all will dig like a diamond
into my chest, leave no
forgiveness unappeased, no love
denied a brilliant wave.
I long for my enemy’s hand
to bless it like we all
bless the stars. I long to shut
out hate caused
by hurt, by love incapable.
A walk through a cemetery.
Death invading an injured bird’s
eyes. This I can bear.
This lockjaw, heavy drum of death.
But the dying – harsh struggle, grasping
claws, alcoholics in the streets,
violent children, worthless anguish…
Who will drain this venom from my
blood, blow my armour down?
Copyright © 1995 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “New Mystics” May 2018
Click to access AllisonGrayhurst-Poems4.pdf
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