After fifteen years representing nationally acclaimed writers and living, breathing, absorbing words twenty-four/seven, it wasn’t until I was in my 60s that poetry turned to me. And I said Yes. For most of my life—as a performer of modern and improvisational dance—movement was my poetry. Now, much to my delight, I reside in the world of words and poetry is my movement. My poetics are embedded in a sense of wonder and the earth-based spirituality I came to when I was young. A naturalist by training, deep noticing is my practice: to open my attention until it moves both ways, the observer and the observed equally curious. It’s often in my woodland garden, where the eros of the natural world is teeming, that I come closest to experiencing the reciprocity of consciousness present in all beings and things. Of course, not all my poems are about the natural world: Mortality. Gun violence. Trauma and healing. Mother. Time. The body and the soul. And, yes, God. The energy of transformation with a spiritual undercurrent are the through-lines of my work. At least that is what I strive for.

“It is a widely known fact that Alison Granucci is an extraordinary literary citizen. But it is my belief that Granucci is among the most talented and undersung poets of her generation. She has a gift for confronting the most difficult truths of the human experience—from mortality to grief and the inevitability of suffering—and imbuing them with incredible beauty. I’m amazed by Granucci’s ability to use language as a vehicle for transformation, metamorphoses, and ultimately redemption.” —Kristina Marie Darling: An Introduction to Alison Granucci, Tupelo Quarterly