The Spell was a Shield
The spell was a child
that fell from a high tree,
now broken, always
asleep. Blindfolded climbing
up a steep hill until I crossed
the pinnacle-edge and found myself laid
flat – a million fractures
puzzle-piecing my solidarity.
At the end of the labyrinth
into death’s mocking jaws, swallowed
into the heartless chamber, crushed in very direction,
no soft resting spot, no treaties for equality or deliverance.
The spell has evaporated, and with it, false notions
of guarantees, help from others, every earthly
security I tied my lifeline to.
Thresholds were crossed
only to learn they were never there, just to
learn the Aquarius-light I was drinking from was
no light but a bitter detachment from reality, a lack
The spell is charred, taken away.
I am open now, and new and
ever so fragile without a path or protection.
Everything is air, and what isn’t air is thin glass,
meaningless see-through enclosures, a false
blocking off of some things from other things,
a false truth destroyed with no truth left yet
to replace it.
Copyright © 2023 by Allison Grayhurst
“The poems included in Allison Grayhurst’s poetry collection Running, lightwave riding reveal an impressive artistic perfection and creative energy. The poems are full of lyrical force and show freshness of style. No doubt, this is a significant work. The poems have great power of observation and originality of imagination,” Dr. Karunesh Kumar Agarwal publisher Cyberwit.net
First published in “Raven Cage Zine Issue 79” April 2023
Published in “Winamop” May 2023
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: