Much Much and Many

I see what my eyes betray,

but see the rising healing corridor

shine and expand

to set right the direction of the wind

and the lack that keeps leaking

until more lack insults all hope.

I see this home delivered,

angels laughing in each corner

and the floors and ceilings are rivers

of abundance, crossing the barrier, dissolving barriers,

trusting that truth will abide like a child trusts

in extreme joy,

joy glittering on her teeth, at her tips, infectious.

I see the promise and I step over reality

to receive it. I am thankful, measured

by this open gate, and the onrush delight,

flooding, reaching everywhere, in.

.

Copyright © by Allison Grayhurst 2025

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

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First published in “Raven Cage Zine” December 2025

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KW0UWFfIqyNpYjP2KeJwmAfDqAIlS-ZD/view?usp=sharing

Click to access RavenCageZine99.pdf

You can listen to the poem below:

Milky Way

Rare soot

lengthening into

the vacuum stream

between stars.

Even more rarified, it lulls in

ghostly formations

merging on the horizon,

thicker where they combine,

overlapping bubbles, hotter

through the closed door.

Nested motions

with no net-motion

overall, a scribble

undulating, still frozen

in this position

of constricted movement.

Blue shifts, red shifts,

equal, loosely wrapped

transient by compression

wave of rotation

a surprising conflict,

rising instead of slowing,

no sharp edges,

rotation stays high

at the visible edge

and beyond, plunging

expectations only

collected by elimination of

violence that proceeds

the sucking hole.

But not so much the mystery matter

floating in free space,

a momentary amplification

that has ruled out house-objects,

tiny objects

because there is no diffused dim glow

only weakling interaction

of symmetric twins

mine shafts

ultra pure

mass but no light

in the space between.

A dramatic effect

a thin gruel

deviant light, distorted

delicate filament clusters,

ragged dusty lanes

chopping the whole field.

A congestion of information,

ingesting matter, and again

the whole of the swirling stars.

.

Copyright © by Allison Grayhurst 2025

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Winamop” December 2025

https://www.winamop.com/ag2500.htm

.

.

You can listen to the poem below:

Hubris

Steady as logic dictates

the truth of superstitious rotation

and effect, unmasks the mystic

trappings of a fated existence ritual

locked into the spinning orbs lightyears away,

locked like us to the gravity of the sun,

but no more, and if it is more,

the intricate complexities of small stirrings

would never be understood or solid enough

to set the tone for the day or for a season.

Dead art that does not evolve with knowledge

is blind art, is needed

by the desperate to feed the need

for false certainty.

The veil is lifted, unveiling

a more magnificent mystery, movement,

igniting the joy of undetermined, humble

exploration.

.

Copyright © by Allison Grayhurst 2025

amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst

.

.

First published in “Winamop” December 2025

https://www.winamop.com/ag2500.htm

.

.

You can listen to the poem below: