Monday, March 18, 2024

TO THE DAYS, THE DEAR DAYS THEY SAID

 

 

TO THE DAYS, THE DEAR DAYS THEY SAID

To the days, the dear days they said then

No longer say, the dear days beyond recall

I direct my wistful scrawl on a curiously

Vintage page and wonder where the sentiment has gone

From modern verse, who banished it or carried it away

And the people bringing posies in a twilight hour

Lingering in the evening with the moon beyond bright

Disclosed then only its silver in poetry no longer read

In ghostly music and refrains

That used to live on earth and do not now resound, remain

In current consciousness, hold sway pearl by pearl

And have we lost that way of being in the world

Directed to friends or sweethearts with kind esteem

Fully at home beneath the oak trees of former reminiscence.

Is there anything left of reminiscence

I ask my soul as twilight unfolds the blossoming night

Still to us so fragile if we still had the way

To apprehend it all, being oh so past that now

O take at any rate this small bouquet of mignonette

You who

for aeons are proud to be instead

Statistical, numerical, somewhat engineered.

And truly though alive on earth, still dead.

mary angela douglas 18 march 2024


TO THE BLUE OF EARLY MORNING THAT FADES TO LAVENDER

 

 

TO THE BLUE OF EARLY MORNING THAT FADES TO LAVENDER

To the blue of early morning that fades to lavender

How often I have seen your blended colours

And tried to write in blue upon the slate of myself

That mystical light, using broken crayons

Even as a child half dreading school

Leaving home again

What lunch shall be packed

Not to feel so exiting

from the warm and snug

fleece of sleep

Why, the same

In a plaid thermos, tomato soup

In a plaid lunchbox a peanut butter and banana sandwich

We shall eat these on another planet

And not feel repaired until the school bus home

Arrives.

mary angela douglas 18 march 2024


Sunday, March 17, 2024

YOUR FACE

 

YOUR FACE

May your face, shine before the Lord

And be protected from lies

From allure, may it shine pure as a star

Yet adamant

Repelling evil and the glint of the gorgeous

And deceiving

May it be a mirroring pond

\Where the trees reflect themselves transparently

In newly sprung green

Where the blue skies rehearse

Their lack of clouds, and roselike grace

May it be a hindrance to the foes

of guilelessness, of high regard

An emblem, of the soul

Of the courage of lions.

mary angela douglas 18 march 2024


MIME

 

Why was I ever

Certain of this

That knowing the right word

Would unlock the world

Would guarantee human understanding

We weren’t reading from the same dictionaries

We were piecing things together

As if the language were made of rags

Or speaking in pictographs at the circus

Of our own choosing

On the surface of everything a million clowns

How have the seas relinquished their depths

I anguish in a thousand dreams

Gesturing with seashell hands.

mary angela douglas 17 march 2024


SORTING THINGS OUT

 

Sorting things out in the kingdoms of imagination

Surely the paths will brighten again

The lilac bloom and the stars appear

Where once there were stones.

Where once there were stones

And the heart grew heavy with them

Let there now be radiance.

Where once there was chaos

Let now the lilies bloom.

mary angela douglas 17 march 2024


I WANT TO REST THE REST ELYSIAN

 

I WANT TO REST THE REST ELYSIAN


I want to rest the rest elysian

To scatter the flowers as if they were stars

To go to sleep in a universe of flowers

To be reprieved from wars and calamaties

From gossip, from who is right

In the menial fight

I want to listen to the Holy Ghost

Pale green

To find my Home.

To live Unseen.

mary angela douglas 17 march 2024


LIKE THE WIND

 

LIKE THE WIND

Pass as the wind passes by

All of the things that make you cry

All of the silences turned to glass

All of the heartaches you thought had passed

Leave like the wind through the sighing trees

Flee, from the coming storm.

Mary angela douglas 17 march 2024


ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL BEYOND REGRET

 

 

ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL BEYOND REGRET

In the greenwood of song

I took up residence

In the long shade of

My catholic springs

And wondered to myself

And sang unto myself

About all things

All things beautiful beyond regret

The things my heart could not forget

I did not reprise the news

Except the news the poets told of old

That beauty is always perishing

But not, in the soul.

Not the message that the cafes wanted to hear

In this late hour and yet it’s still

The greening of the year.

mary angela douglas 17 march 2024


Saturday, March 16, 2024

HOW MUCH I WANTED TO FIND A BOOK

 

HOW MUCH I WANTED TO FIND A BOOK

How much I wanted to find a book

Entitled something like

What to do in case you are surrounded by dragons

It seemed to me as life wore on

There certainly was more and more of a need

For such self help instruction

In vain I looked for it

I thought maybe I will write it myself

But I knew if I even started to put one word down

The whole tribe of them would be after me.

So I just prayed.

Im here Lord;surrounded again by dragons.

They’re sleeping now.

Thank You.

Mary angela douglas 16 march 2024


NOT EVERYTHING IS UNDER SIEGE

 

 

NOT EVERYTHING IS UNDER SIEGE

Not everything is under siege

In every particular moment

Breathe, even the temporary peace

Inside will quell the sorrows that abide

Believe.

Not everything is under siege

Think of rainbows, clouds gone by

When the moon is riding high

Green leaf, red leaf floating by

Think of moments of repose

Much praised, the glory of the rose

Though petals scatter much abides

For a moment, close your eyes and see:

Not everything is under siege.

mary angela douglas 16 march 2024


SATURDAYS LATE 1950S LITTLE ROCK

 

SATURDAYS LATE 1950S IN  LITTLE ROCK

Saturday feeling, lawnmower sounds

Scent of the cut grass

Dog barking rounds

Pitcher of lemonade beading and pink

Give you a quarter for all that you think

Homework not done yet

And nobody cares

Morning chores finished

We take to the air

Riding our bikes around

Round the block square

Blue is the distance

As if its forever

How can I from my heart

Saturdays sever.

nary angela douglas 16 march 2024


TO THE CONVENT IN HEAING DISTANCE OF MY CHILDHOOD

 

TO THE CONVENT IN HEARING DISTANCE OF MY CHILDHOOD

 

Bells on the wind

The zinnias at their height

Fuchsia and orange

Are my delight

Violet, magenta

My heart ascends

Dreaming of summer prayers

Bright on the wind

Canticle summer

Green as the sea

First intimations

Of eternity

Long will I think of you

Far beyond time

Catching the glint of you

In my latter rhyme.

mary angela douglas 16 march 2024


WE ARE MORE

 

WE ARE MORE

Its festooned its festive

Why am I unaccountably sad

Its décor, fantastic

And yet I still feel bad

Because the inner house is crying

And the inner house was glad

But the inner house is dying

And it isn’t just a fad

To say the heart within us

Is the point of all of this

Or else we’ve reached our limits

And we just don’t get the gist

We are more than mere consumers

We are more than can be thought

We are more than popping culture

Can assume its sold and bought.

mary angela douglas 16 march 2024


Friday, March 15, 2024

IN CERTAIN LIGHTS

 

In certain lights, perhaps the lights of jewelers

what if our words were prisms

And cast all colours in the air

In radiant bands

And I would say to you perhaps a word of indigo

A feeling of deep green on rose

And colours would be our language

And glittering light

And we would never be misunderstood 

Or misunderstand

Aware of everything as if in the Dream Time

As language and light would be as one.

mary angela douglas 15 march 2024


I WANT TO SING OF THE WHITE GOLD OF THE SUN

 

 

I want to sing of the white gold of the sun

Of the early chill of spring and of the intense green

And of saints like candle flames refreshed

We shall be in every cell, alive

Remembering the imprint of the Lord

That we are in his image cast

A casting more than of our shadow selves

And myrtle and orange blossom and lily and  asphodel

And all the flowers we cannot spell enough

Into our blind being blinded by Glory

Spill over into the hidden sanctuaries of the earth.

mary angela douglas 15 march 2024


IN MY MIND AND WITH PLUMAGE FINE

 

IN MY MIND AND WITH PLUMAGE FINE

In my mind and with plumage fine

Sometimes I see the ghosts of noble people

Gleaming a moment by the stair

Shedding a tear in the twilight turning

Every evening sky I know

Into the place where they will go;

Vanish, melt like Shakespeare’s players

Leaving me to ponder

Their mute gestures at the edge of Time.

mary angela douglas 15 march 2024


YOU SHOULD KNOW

 

YOU SHOULD KNOW

You should know

I said to myself in a somewhat sleepless night

Even though you slumber not

And thoughts are fraught

Like false alarms

Somewhere the aurora borealis lives

And crickets sing themselves to sleep

Small animals burrow

The stars sing over the wide prairies

And in the morning

The skies will be filled with the colours

Of wild roses and iris.

mary angela douglas 15 march 2024


Thursday, March 14, 2024

IT ALWAYS HAPPENS THIS WAY

 

IT ALWAYS HAPPENS THIS WAY

It always happens this way

Whenever dreams start to snow

The air grows filmy and bright

And the trees always know

That brightness awaits them

Softness, a singing and silence

And then

The world that is crowding us too much

Disappears again.

How I would wish to call it at will

All of the beauty that makes us so still

All of the fleece on the winter hill

the silver bell shining that fills me.

Mary angela douglas 14 march 2024


WHAT WE ARE LOSING

 

 

WHAT WE ARE LOSING

What we are losing

Is a certain way of looking at the world

At art and music

At grace, at one another and ourselves

What we are losing cannot be replaced

Perhaps our souls

The souls of everything are at stake

I really think so

In my dreams the cathedrals

Keep falling into the sea.

And I weep.

Fishing out God by moonlight

mary angela douglas 14 march 2024


WHAT BEAUTIFUL SCENES HAVE DISAPPEARED

 

WHAT BEAUTIFUL SCENES HAVE DISAPPEARED

What beautiful scenes have disappeared

From the children’s books

I remember light like cream arising

Over colorful houses

And sprites and goblins both

Their winged blessings bestowed.

The cheerful roads that ran

Through the small green hills

The coral branching sun

And the text said children the world

Is full of possibilities, woven of wonders

Where traffic never snarls

And the skies are bluer than blue

And Sundays always peaceful.

Now they have given children the ashes to eat

The fear of melting glaciers in their sleep

The prosaic in mashed potato mouthfuls.

And for dessert, doom and gloom.

Excavate the books before

The ones where stories were glorious

And buttery sunshine streamed

Endlessly

While we brought Mother wild roses.

Home from school.

mary angela douglas 14 march 2024


Wednesday, March 13, 2024

SILVER IN THE RAINS, CANDLE IN THE DARK

 

SILVER IN THE RAINS, CANDLE IN THE DARK

We are wearing ourselves out on trivialities

We who were made in God’s image

Who bear the clock of life within us

The possibility of mirroring

All the beauty of the earth

And answering it back

In even a whisper

I an made of trees of the green and blue of everything

You have made, of light

Of air, of all that glitters on the waters

And bud like any blossom

Again and again like a music repeated

That is cherished

I am your daughter

I do not forget that.

I cannot forget that.

Lord God.

Made for infinity

Happy as apple blossom

Or lark.

Silver in the rains

Candle in the dark.

mary angela douglas 13 march 2024


TO THE LORD GOD WITH GREAT HAPPINESS

 

So wonderful we can live for You

If that is what we choose to do

No disaster can change that

No calamity rearrange that.

Nothing can keep us from your Power

To alter things within the hour

To shine a light on what to do

When things are slipping far from view

There is, there is no Friend like You.

mary angela douglas 13 march 2024


WE ARE THE SUM OF WHAT WE CAN'T EXPRESS

 

WE ARE THE SUM OF WHAT WE CAN’T EXPRESS

We are the sum of what we can’t express

Always second guessed and second guessing

Taking in the news always being used

By whoever is trying to sell us something

What if we just fade away

From the news we heard today

From the trends we cannot understand

Look at starlight whirling there

Change the locks on all despair

Listen to the quiet where

Nothing is required of us.

Especially our wearying opinions.

mary angela douglas 13 march 2024


FOR THE BREEZE NEWLY MINTED, FOR THE SUN JUST COINED

 

FOR THE BREEZE NEWLY MINTED, FOR THE SUN JUST COINED

For the breeze newly minted

For the sun, just coined

For the unaccountable bridge

Suddenly appearing, over the flood plains

How can I not thank you God

For the blue of skies remembered

For the orchid winds as well

the lilies that consoled me

In the hour of distress

Their perfume on the air

I could never explain.

For the strength for what remains

To emerge from all sorrow

Shining as if after long interminable rains

To rest in the aftermaths

To soar over fear

Even, like a small bird

Singing. darting

from the bramble bushes

Of an insignificant dream:

May all pain

Transform itself into infinite beauty.

Mary angela douglas 13 march 2024

 


Tuesday, March 12, 2024

WHAT IS NO LONGER IMPORTANT

 

WHAT IS NO LONGER IMPORTANT

What is no longer important

In the catalogue of things to remember

Let me easily forget

But keep: stars, winds, seas, infinity…

Small green leaves, mica

Blue skies in my pocket

Afternoons free

The absence of arguments

Rain in the background of old movies

My solemn vows.

mary angela douglas 12 march 2024


THE LAST GOODBYE

 

THE LAST GOODBYE

Captured at sunset the last light, home

The lilies of noonday

The dark of unknown

Salvaged forever

The last luggage packed

The light luggage Back

What shall I bring to thee

Robin’s egg blue

Moss by the white stones

Droplets of dew

Sweet was the sojourn

Hard was the way

Oft have I wished I could

Just simply stay.

But evening comes always

To each in his turn

For every twigged starlight

I cannot help yearn.

Lord help me to leave

What so long was my home

Farewell to the earth

Where so often I roamed

And wondered and wondered

And looked at the stars

And knew you were somewhere

And now, here You Are.

mary angela douglas 12 march 2024


SOMETIMES ON EARTH WE ARE MADE TO FEEL

 

SOMETIMES ON EARTH WE ARE MADE TO FEEL

Sometimes on earth we are made to feel

We are no longer counted

Among the living

Like the homeless, tagged like migrating birds

So the census takers can remember

Which of them has not departed yet

Like frozen sparrows

To whom may be given still

On occasion

Some socks, a blanket

Some peanut butter sandwiches

All that could be wished for

Except a home

I have heard

Music in the still of night lamenting

But the working days arise

And the corners shine

From which they are asked to move on

On each corner invisible angels cry

heedlessly into ruby trumpets

beyond our ken.

Perhaps a portal in the sun will open

And they will live there.

Eating pomegranates like those in ancient myths.

mary angela douglas 12 march 2024

 


RIDDLER OF EVERYTHING

 

RIDDLER OF EVERYTHING

Riddler of everything

Turn again home

That we might make Your Presence known

Caller of starlight, crafter of rose

Why would we your power depose

I will stand on the farthest hill

Mended again, to seek Your Will

To seek Your Heart by which we live

To clasp Your Hand

And to love you, still.

Riddler of everything

Turn again home

That we may not feel

So all alone.

mary angela douglas 12 march 2024


Monday, March 11, 2024

OH LILLIED LIGHT WHEN WILL YOU LIGHT

 

OH LILLIED LIGHT WHEN WILL YOU LIGHT

Oh lillied light when will you light

On my small planet’s darkening rim

And when you sing oh will you bring

The days that hum with the honied hives

And will you sing that I might joy

In music heard when all has cloyed

When all has cloyed and gone astray

My sheepfold at the break of day

Are wandering the wild galaxies

And will not come home.

mary angela douglas 12 march 2024


IN THE TIN FOREST WHERE THE TREES ARE SHIVERING

 

IN THE TIN FOREST WHERE THE TREES ARE SHIVERING

In the world of raging wolves

In the tin forest where the trees are shivering

In the battle of unforeseen consequences

I raise no white handkerchief in surrender

In dreams I am braver than I am on earth

I catch the sunray and all the colors are mine

Through an endless prism my song unwinds

And I am free

But in a world of raging wolves

In the tin forest where the trees are shivering

God in Heaven, where would I be

Who would I be without Thee.

mary angela douglas 12 march 2024


ON THE LONGEST DAY

 

ON THE LONGEST DAY

On the longest day

Let us be brimful of benedictions

let us staunch all wounds with dark honey

and carry the wounded in soft clouds

and build for them a castle of pine boughs and fir

scented as if for Christmas, cloves and oranges.

allow no footfall to distress them

no carrion wing to invade their dreams

let the whole earth be full of consolations

and the grasses bend gently

by the rivers of time.

mary angela douglas 11 march 2024

 


TO YOU WRITING POEMS NOW ANYWHERE IN THE LIVING WORLD

 

TO YOU WRITING POEMS NOW ANYWHERE IN THE LIVING WORLD

You may think because your words win no major prizes

That you are unheard

Or that, if they do eventually

The contests trivialize you

But I would like to say

Poetry is a contest of another sort

A contest of the heart against the chaos

Of the unexpressed

And every word in this direction is more than blessed

Even if heard by only the angels

Cast your silver light upon the dark waters

Even one shining thread

Staying up all night to scrawl the least line

Perhaps it may be a lifeline

A sliver of hope

To those who in great sorrow grope

Blind and in anguish for meaning

Or a spark of love that reaches them

In just a syllable or two

On which they can be leaning

Or light years sped to those in dungeons

Nothing is wasted that from your heart is spun

Though multitudes turn aside from it.

mary angela douglas 11 march 2024


Sunday, March 10, 2024

I ENTERED THE CASTLE

 

I ENTERED THE CASTLE

I entered the castle

Moths ate the moonlight from the skies

Cream scudded clouds I viewed from the towers

And thought of God for hours and hours

Old fairytales and why they were written that way

So that almost every ending was perfection

Through drafty corridors I sang the lays

Of those so many who came before

To sing of myths and epic stores

Dragons and the ones who slayed them

And how all treasures dim

Except the thought of Him.

Mary angela douglas 11 march 2024

 


I LOST THE UPPER REGISTER OF ANGELS

 

I LOST THE UPPER REGISTER OF ANGELS

I lost the upper register of angels

And cloud formations colour on colour piled

I lost the greening of the leaves

Wild strawberries and all I loved as a child

And summer’s ease departed and the lemonade shade

In a nightmare kingdom where I could not stand

And where I fell as into a whirlwind

And naught and naught could I command

Thinking my harp had left me

And drinking only salt.

Look as far out as you can to sea

To ghost ships and no horizon

Dream as deep as a well can be

And there were no images.

How I came back recalled to life

I cannot say

But God Himself restored me to

The Living Day.

The raspberry taste of joy.

mary angela douglas 10 march 2024


THE DREAM OF THE ANTIQUE DOLL

 

THE DREAM OF THE ANTIQUE DOLL

I dreamed I found an antique doll

Or that it found me

It was a cloth doll

With a printed face

Dingy, its hair moth eaten a little

Out of place

It had the expression of an infinite sadness

So that one would want to comfort it endlessly

And I tried.

People around me In the dream ridiculed me for this

Because I loved the doll as if It were my own child

And would not let it go

Would not say anything at all about it

Except that it was valuable

More than any of you know I said in the dream

It seemed to me

The dolls eyes filled with tears

mary angela douglas 10 march 2024


FOR THE POET RAINER MARIA RILKE

 

FOR THE POET RAINER MARIA RILKE

You who were terrified at tea parties

Stepping out on the terraces where

The dark blue winds had gathered

How far along are you now

Forever wandering on the coasts of Heaven

Familiar with stars

May the ghosts of old gardens comfort you

The innocence of old shrines

The blue and gold of eternal ways

How much you suffered on earth

Being a foreigner here

Displaced among the commonplace

Longing for far distances

We gather in your silver harvest

Generations after

Each poem delectable

Tasting of other realms and

The long shadows of trees.

You pilgrim of:

The Immensities.

mary angela douglas 10 march 2024


SOMETIMES A PATH SEEMS TO OPEN UP

 

SOMETIMES A PATH SEEMS TO OPEN UP

Sometimes a path seems to open up

Wild onions grow there, the skies mirror

The billows of seas not yet registered

And all of them are grey, grey silver.

A path opens up and there are berries there

And you pluck and eat them the juice running down your chin

And survive many winters or only the worst one

And this is in dreaming yet It feels like real life

As if suddenly you were plunged into a far away country

Through the mists

That is suddenly very near

And you make your way slowly

Almost among familiar things.

mary angela douglas 10 march 2024


AND THE FOOL, HIS CHIEF MOURNER

 

AND THE FOOL, HIS CHIEF MOURNER

I cannot master Shakespeare’s depths

But I am happy to find his figments, absurd dreams

Coded illusions, fairy tale madness, lunacy

That is beautiful under the moon

Just pure theatrics

Who are we what do we really see

He ponders on the stage where we fret

Small lives away thinking we are kings

Predicting us in the future

Or love is a light thing a thing of jest or it plunges live into the open grave

Of the near beloved

To find what it has lost now cannot be saved

Through some trifling error when the messenger couldn’t get through.

Midsummer lightness, Puck’s regrets

Ariel spun freedom at its best

These I muse on and a few fluted songs

And Ophelia’s crown of drown-ed flowers

Cordelia, dying in her father’s arms

And Lear in the tempest forgetting everything.

And the Fool, his chief mourner.

mary angela douglas 10 march 2024


WHO CAN SAY WHERE

 

WHO CAN SAY WHERE

On the snow blind page

Anything could appear

The scrawl of bird flight

From many years

Their interrupted songs

Snow scars in the sky

Cathedral colours in the flume of the heart

Arising;It could suddenly be that the trees appear

With the wind rushing through them

The deliciousness of that

Of pure feast after a musicless fast

The sounds of a golden language tumbling in the air

Like the leaves let go from the trees where the wind is rushing

Is rushing like time in dreams

Who can say where

mary angela douglas 10 march 2024


Saturday, March 09, 2024

AND THE BIRDS SING NO MORE

 

AND THE BIRDS SING NO MORE

 

Many flags have flown

On the good ship last resort

Feelings we have owned

Then traded away

I will not trade out my God

Though I sail not

Though all things fall away

Though the water recedes

And all is dry land

And the trees lose their root systems

And the birds the birds sing no more

Still it is God that I implore.

mary angela douglas 9 march 2024

 


I WILL PAINT WHITE WORDS ON SNOW

 

I WILL PAINT WHITE WORDS ON SNOW

I will paint white words on snow

Hiding my heart’s secrets

Leaving no trace of anguish

Let tears come and go

Let what flows flow not

Into the rivers of antipathy

Let bitterness dissolve

Let it be no fit savory

Let the braid of tears

Be braided with rosepetals, violets

From earliest years.

And sadness be annulled.

Mary angela douglas 9 march 2024


SCRAPBAG

 

 

SCRAPBAG

For Emily Dickinson

One chirp floated down from a dismal tree

Winter soul I am, it felt like Spring to me.

One cloud rainbow hued suddenly arrived

For a thousand years to come in memory

Shall abide.

Though only once the sun appear

Or halcyon day be done

One scrap of bright infinity,

For me, all bells have rung.

mary angela douglas 9 march 2024


THE END IS COMING LIKE A SUNSET END

 

THE END IS COMING LIKE A SUNSET END

The end is coming like a sunset end

But the sunset has sunrise to begin again

This is how like a child I think of the end of days

Or my days

Of all the labyrhynthine ways, the mysteries

Alpha and omega to me

Spring has its winter

Winter has its Spring

And we though we appear ephemeral

Were not made to disappear

Its written in the stars my friends light year to light year

For us, for us there is no end.

And all the vanishing Beautiful whispers it’s so.

like the songs of snow.

We shall be renewed.

mary angela douglas 9 march 2024


Friday, March 08, 2024

OLD BOOKS

OLD BOOKS

Ghosts of the alphabets linger here

Wherever crates of old books appear

Relegated to bin and landfill

Frontpiece and tissue torn apart

Emblems of old fashioned hearts

How will we face Heaven’s judge

Who judged them so

Beauty not of a present time

Why would I banish you from my mind

Why would I think your voice is stilled

When all your pictures my heart still fill

The antique phrase, the chivalrous knight

The maiden in her maiden flight

Dante and Shakespeare and sweet Rosetti

Now  they would make of you only confetti

Wall street ticker from up on high

But I will live with you till I die.

mary angela douglas 8 march 2024 

WHEN WE STOOD IN THE BRANCHING SUN

 

WHEN WE STOOD IN THE BRANCHING SUN

When we stood in the branching sun

We did not know our race had begun

We did not know

Lifting the shadows from the hill

You were with us even still

When in the evening we could not stand.

Time has measured such a span

From then till now

Though we falter, fall and cry

Like wounded birds from terrestrial skies

The flight of the soul is undeterred

We lean on your imperishable word

And long for Easter Tide.

mary angela douglas 8 march 2024

Thursday, March 07, 2024

DAEDALUS MOURNS FOR HIS SON

 

DAEDALUS MOURNS FOR HIS SON

His precarious project oh my son

Wept Daedalus in the aftermath

And the sea boiled up

And the heartache was too much

It overflowed the maths of myth

And no cartology ever could contain it

For what map is there of grief

When it’s too late

Such tears are gold

Now the eclipse lengthens

He joys no more

In the rush of wings

Not even in birdsong.

mary angela douglas 8 march 2024


I HAD A MIRROR A SHINING MIRROR

 

I HAD A MIRROR A SHINING MIRROR

I had a mirror a shining mirror

Emblazoned with rubies and diamonds

With emeralds

With delicate jade

I kept it hidden where I kept my heart

Guarded over by seven willows

Watched over by seven mourning swans

What will I do if they shatter my mirror

What will I do if they shatter my song

How will I prolong this cygnet life

Lord God carry me out of the disasters

Lord God mend my broken name

My mirror they have shattered

And I have wept like rain

Facing the other way now

In a fractured daze

I contemplate with anguish

The bewildering maze

That we call life on earth

And pray and pray

For a second birth

As for Your return.

mary angela douglas 7 march 2024


WE PRAISE THEE OH LORD, DEFENDING US FROM THE WAVES

 

And should I reassure

Those who without conscience

Leave us to endure

Random and brutal

The exigencies we never expect.

Hearing the drowning cries

Where men are deaf

How can we be bereft

I think God is proved more pure by their exit

Coming to defend us from the oncoming waves

And fiercer yet

Defending us from being left alone.

mary angela douglas 7 march 2024


Wednesday, March 06, 2024

PRECARIOUS

 

PRECARIOUS

The things I thought I would say in many languages

Cry themselves to sleep and burrow in the deep woods

Where starlight only speaks

And live bewildered, restive

In kingdoms of the precarious

Making do.

How will I chart their seas

Landlocked as I am

Disposed to being somewhere else instead

I write on clouds and then they drift away

Leaving me with

Finally no further words to say.

mary angela douglas 6 march 2024