Sing, for love is in his astounding
form and mind that welcomes the intricate unknown.
In his touch are the things of wings and
a leopard’s elusive step.
Sing for his heart is a cavern where
mysteries are kept, where my lineage begins
and the mirror is no more.
Sing, for the sensual stomach, for the
timelessness of impassioned blood.
Sing, for the connecting limbs, for the
instinctual rhythm inside that joins us higher,
together at the deepest core.
Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst
Published in “New Mystics” April 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…
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