River – songs from the poetry of Allison Grayhurst

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The Poem:

Beyond The Grave

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If all the seeds fell like blood

or blood like seeds into

the ravenous earth and time

was a wagging tail in the dark

then I would know that death would come

by any reason and be a blessing

all on its own. But as it is, death is

the hollow spot of the living – some with

grief and others with fear, and me myself,

it is memory that unbuttons the flesh of my chest

to leave me poked and burning.

It is the hill I climb and stumble

down its rocky incline whenever I return

if only once a day

to meet death’s stalking eyes.

It is not my heart that fails me,

but the things outside

like the shadow on the neighbours’ window

and the frightening madness of so many strangers.

It is here and there like an insect

on my wall, like the fatherly love

I’ll never find again in another’s eyes,

but is with me in the coming autumn air,

and in the quietude of these joy-filled days.

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Copyright © 2002 by Allison Grayhurst

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First published in “Veil – Journal of Darker Musings”

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