A Great Wind Came Rushing

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A great wind came rushing

and I said to the wind

“Bitter wind, stop before you carry me off.”

A great wind came rushing

and pulled me into the sky,

I travelled past wheat-fields

sailed under its furious reign.

I was broken into many pieces,

hit what the wind could not pass through

half-crazed with resistance

I fell to the ground

into worm-holes and the open mouths of laughing children.

I sunk into soil and dreamt of sprouting.

And the wind said to me,

“Do not perish with fright in these strange places,

close your eyes and wait for spring.”

 

Spring came,

I cracked and grew flesh

then like a vine I crawled out of that dark ground

and found the sun

soothed by heat and rain

I praised the earth with untainted joy

And I said to the earth,

“Sweet earth, allow me to walk.”

 

Gradually my limbs found movement

lips formed, eyes appeared, blue and wide

and I ran from land to land

celebrating life with each step.

I wore no clothes, carried no yard stick

found equal peace, equal rapture

with every new encounter.

 

A great wind came rushing

and I said to the wind

“Powerful wind, come carry me off

for I am still young and can bear the storm.”

Weightless with excitement

I joined its intense ride

gathered at the centre

halfdead with stillness

I gave myself up

lost the beating of my pulse, lost momentum

sunk low into my depths, immune to singing

And the voice said to me

“Do not despair with sorrow in this vacant hollow,

open your eyes and wait for love.”

 

Love came,

I expanded and felt communion

Like a clam I crept out of my isolation

and shone my pearl

 

Like a clam I closed back my shell

and hid in the safety of darkness.

 

And I said to my love,

“I am as incapable of loving as much as

everyone else is.” And my lover said back to me,

“So am I.”

 

A great wind came rushing

And I said to the wind,

“Great wind, be still

It is time now to learn.”

 

The great wind ceased.

 

My love and I walk hand in hand

on an unknown mission, swept away,

carried by each other, alone.

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Copyright © 1989 by Allison Grayhurst

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

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Published in “Medusa’s Kitchen” May 2018

http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.ca/2018/05/a-great-wind-came-rushing.html

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

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You can listen to this poem by clicking below:

https://allisongrayhurst.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/a-great-wind-came-rushing.m4a?_=1

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If it is what you want . . .

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Bleed out

in the dirt and dung of relationship,

leap like a lemming off the cliff

soothe your cracked hands in olive oil,

then take another’s hands and allow them

to join you in this private matter.

        It is in this truth, ourselves with another, that

we test the mettle of our discoveries, the cleanliness

of the mansions we live in.

 

I see stillness in the saga, retreat

when necessary and triumphant vows

in spite of chaos and the blood-drenched ground.

        I will never be fully born,

whole enough to join the stars in their whistling.

Each time it will be a sunflower plucked,

and the bee along with it,

each time torn awake –

on the threshold of death, only to master

the small stream before it widens into a river.

 

Each time,

love is a miracle – the movement forward, past

jagged huge stones, decaying corpses.

        Let your bare feet make contact, even lie flat,

naked, face down, take in

the sharp edges, the smell, the sight, then

answer back by rising and walking and

acknowledging the sky.

Say, love, my love,

you are more than habit,

you are the most treasured thing ever pulled from the void,

the only summer worth remembering, a seed

that turned into a thousand-year-old tree and yet still

just a seed, easily crushed, demanding nutrients and care.

 

Clear cutting, mud-thrashing,

faint smiles that unfold a cityscape of fears.

Barely making it, sure of decline, then suddenly, soaring –

one nod, the same need, mutual reviving genesis.

It is soft sometimes, but mostly impossible,

always impossible, alone.

 

Make up your mind.

Make a shell and break it completely.

Pick an apple, and chew.

 

 

 © 2018 by Allison Grayhurst

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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Published in “Outlaw Poetry” May 2018

https://outlawpoetry.com/category/allison-grayhurst/

https://outlawpoetry.com/2018/if-it-is-what-you-want-by-allison-grayhurst/

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Published in “Elephant Journal” April 2018

If it is what you want . . . – poem by Allison Grayhurst

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You can listen to the poem by clicking below:

https://allisongrayhurst.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/if-it-is-what-you-want.m4a?_=2

 

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