At The Foot Of Your Golden Mountain

at the foot of your golden mountain

never seen:

I cried

turning in this

crevasse of rose

I don't know how to be

and the mists roll down

so easily, enclosing me

how can a living heart

be hidden-

and all their snow redactions seem

so signed off on?

like a prayer flag in a blizzard

of misconstrued intentions-

someone else's version of events

my heart my heart my

helplessness before you-

mary angela dougloas 5-7 april 2002/31 may 2005/30 august 2003/31 august 2010