Sight at Zero – selected poems (1988 to 2017) – Book Release


This 323-page book Sight at Zero selected poems (1988 to 2017) represents a wide selection of Allison Grayhurst’s poetry spanning over the last 29 years. It is a thorough overview of her work during that time, containing her best and most popular poems.

Edge Unlimited Publishing: ISBN-13: 978-1544785646; ISBN-10: 154478564; ASIN: B075Q7TDJK


Download or read for free:

Sight at Zero – selected poems (1988 to 2017) – The Poetry of Allison Grayhurst – Book 21



You can purchase the book here in paperback or on kindle:



Interview on JD DeHart – Reading and Literature Resources

Interview on JD DeHart – Reading and Literature Resources, August 2017


1. What drives you to write?
In all honesty, God drives me to write or not to write. I wait for inspiration and there is only one source of that inspiration for me, and that is God – no matter the subject  matter or tone of the poem.
2.  What are you reading and writing right now?
I am reading Wigford Rememberies by Kyp Harness – one of the greatest authors of this or any time.
I am also rereading Rainer Maria Rilke’s Book of Hours – Love Poems to God.
I am working on my latest book of poetry called the Fault of Sages. It begins with a longer, eight-page poem, taking the journey of one soul through two lifetimes – one as a tyrant and the last as a monk. It is called New Wheel – The Passage of Arnik. So far, the rest of the poems collected for that book are shorter.
3.  Where can we go online to learn more about you?
My website has all of my poems available to read online  as well as a free PDF download of all my available books . My work is also available for free reading on ISSUU  or for hardcopy and kindle purchase at Amazon
Vancouver-based singer/songwriter Diane Barbarash is in the process of making a album of eight of my poems which she has transformed into songs, to be released later this year.
A rough draft of the first song can be heard here:





There is a beat in the darkening air

that whispers of love and laughter


There is song in the rippling wind

so moving

so unmeasured

that even dreams

cannot meet its glory


There is colour

There is more than power

in one stroke

in one fallen ray

that gives rhythm

to a discordant day


They say

Night comes

like death comes



But there,

Oh there!   The first star . . .




Copyright © 1989 by Allison Grayhurst

Before the Dawn was published  in 1989 by The Plowman, written by Allison Grayhurst under the pseudonym of Jocelyn Kain.

Before the Dawnimg159

For Every Rain Cover 5


Published in “The Peregrine Muse” July 2017


First published in “The Plowman: A Journal of International Poetry” 1989


You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


Reviews below of Allison Grayhurst’s chapbook “Before the Dawn” were published in the “The Plowman – A Journal of International Poetry” 1989:

“Throughout these 54 poems there is a ring of truth, an honesty few poets inject into their writing. I hope there is a follow-up to the book, because it leaves one with the desire to hear more, to know what will happen next, to discover the net result of the woven pattern of emotion and intensity that will come from the pen of this stirring author,” poet C.F. Kennedy

“Jocelyn Kain’s chapbook Before The Dawn, is thick with mixed images of rain, smoking cigarettes, the sea – images that appear in other poems, but in Kain’s poetry, the images come alive in a melancholic dance of the soul. This book is fresh, emotional, quality poetry. If Kain’s talents continue to improve, she will someday prove to be a noteworthy literary figure,” poet Davy Wood.



The Fault of Sages – Book Release

The Fault of Sages

ASIN: B075JT6X6B; ISBN-13: 978-1544785646; ISBN-10: 154478564X

The Fault of Sages – The poetry of Allison Grayhurst – Book 20


Links to purchase:


Ground Bird Flown


Ground Bird Flown


Layers of clear

rainbow shine guide

you through the pyramid portal into

open air revelation.

Joy on a stick, in your soft eyes,

closed in death, with permanent grace.


For all the gifts your gave,

daily miracles, flutterings,

vocalizations, accumulating in song.

For your fragile vessel, energy octave

higher than us wingless dwellers.


Your fearless power streaked

into the lining of your feathered coat,

patterned gold thick veins

washed in sparkling sand.


Beautiful Sage of the flowerbed gardens,

the blueberry, the hempseed swallow,

fearless messenger, angelic power

bound in a small body, you were 

loved completely for everything

that you were, gave,

held lifeforce for. You were

soft, demanding and rich

with good humour


stretching, expanding

higher, wider, wings aflare, lifting

in pure vibrant dance, puffed and proud,

your freedom actualized, raised

only inches off the ground.



Copyright © 2017 by Allison Grayhurst


To be published in Synchronized Chaos, October 2017



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:



The Closing


The Closing



Part 1


Eight years ago 

it entered, building force

gradually, started

embryonic, developed

organs, blood vessels, a brain,

then talons like tentacles

gripped from the inside

strangling the light, passing

its poison into the bloodstream, feeding off

of adolescence fears and anxiety.


It started small, moments of rebellion,

grew irrational, unkind,

ended in violence – a smashed glass extending

its tear into every room, crevices, vents.

Sacred hope sacrificed to indulge

in dark extremes. Love denied, turned

on its side unable to struggle enough

to set itself upright.

Now it is here, overtaken,

apparent in heavy footsteps,

sleep deprived eyes, unshowered

hair, a room as breeding ground

for clutter and chaos.


I take you with two hands, grip your sloughing shoulders,

your tarry taste and destructive tongue.

I take out what has entered, send it back to the void

and that line of heritage it travelled upon.


I fill the empty pocket with light, first mending it with

the tender-thread of God and the sharp-point of truth.

I iron-gate the place where it left and pour a concrete wall.


I bless this house. I clear the corners, the ceiling, floorboards.

I call the Buddha that was born with you to reawaken,

for my army of angels to lift up their swords. We are

still here. We are love, and love

is the centre, the carriage and the tide,

never defeated, stronger than the frantic pulse,

stronger than the wielding axe and the ash of its remains,

stronger than this cursed person you wear and claim,

strongest now in this hopeless hardened place,

in this choice, beginning.



Part 2


Step, bless your

new shoes, step and

hold the sun on your tongue like a berry,

leaving an indelible juicy mark,

be guided by other people’s wisdom

as long as it doesn’t undermine your own

and watch yourself enter Eden-Earth in its many glorious

forms – dive into small mounds of sand, pieces of glass,

spiraling trees, trunks, bulging and retracting

in individual rhythm,

a solid movement, stunning as music.

Take this choice from disaster,

offer it the path of the impossible, a pathway into

a miracle because God counts for everything,

counts on flat and hot surfaces,

counts on the deathbed and

in the red coat

beautiful gleam



Part 3


The way forward is

the way back, clearing

stumbling blocks that promise

to repeat ahead if not killed

at their source.

To hold the truth even if it tells you

that love is limited in people, certain people

who play both sides – one foot in the basin of heaven

and the other glorifying the haphazard world.


Even if it tells you you cannot save

or be saved by a half-hearted account of kindness,

tells you, it is nothing

to be bitter over, nothing personal and also

not yours to bear the repercussions,

tells you to continue all the way, hold firm

to the thin road and the willingness to lose everything –

home, sacred room, the safety of your own –

for the divine request to follow. Follow then

the tulips

still managing to bud in backyards untended,

follow then with God at the helm.


You are not abandoned, not like the tin-foil wrapper,

or the chewing gum chewed,

or worn-through undergarments. You are protected

and that protection is warm and powerful and golden

as an owl’s steady eyes. You are afraid I know.

The doors you used to knock on are

boarded up. Steel eyes lock on you, mock you in your anguish.

It feels ruthless, brutally barren,

feels that way only until you fully let go.

I let go. I drop my past, my precious cargo, drop you

and follow, hearing faint the voice that tells me –

The only thing I have to do to receive God’s love

is to believe in God’s love.




Copyright © 2017 by Allison Grayhurst


To be published in Synchronized Chaos, October 2017



You can listen to the poem by clicking below:







I believe in the portion that

dies underground but lives

like a dream only in the

waking hour.

For me it gave the great request,

gave the last ring for my finger.

I wear the seed but never

the bloom. I am the false train

at the station. My blood bleeds

its impurities and runs

like floodwaters over the city.

For now, at a standstill.

For now, half-whole –

a miniature of all I was supposed to be.

In this place I must accept

or die so much before my time.

In this place where wonder

is not enough, but is

itself a blessing.



Copyright © 2008 by Allison Grayhurst



Published in “GloMag” August 2017



Published in “White Liquor” August 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.

Reviews of ‘The Many Lights of Eden’:

“’The Many Lights of Eden’ is a journey: a journey of the heart through youth, anguish, struggle, spiritual awakening, grief, death, love, loss, guilt, struggle, despair, hope, surrender, God, sensuality, imperfection, motherhood, aging, the vanquishing of the devil, indeed, many devils, the inevitable fall from perfection and the casting off of old wineskins for a new one. Perhaps speaking of this book as a chronicle of spiritual maturing would be more accurate, the realization that there is spirituality within imperfection and that handmade temples cannot hope to compete with the spiritual temples within each of us. ‘The Many Lights of Eden’ is a diamond. It is a beautiful collection of insights. Allison Grayhurst’s thoughts and writings are a deep well. Drink from it, for the water is clear and crisp. This collection is a MUST-READ,” Eric M. Vogt, author of Letters to Lara and Paths and Pools to Ponder

“I have been slow at responding to reviews for Allison Grayhurst due to summer’s busy days, however she brings life to each poem, heart to the images and everyone should have a collection of Grayhurst Poetry,” Ann Johnson-Murphree, poet.