[to Christ in his sorrowful incarnations
(and after the film by Jean Cocteau)]
the teardrop diamonds in your hand
rueful rubies can't be spent
who are you really
do we even know?
bearing our disfigurement
in the desolate garden,
most desolate Rose
is it too late?
are you still there?
turning the ring three times I pray
for the ancient fairytale trumpets
the snow-glitter ready to descend-
mary angela douglas 1 june 2010
