[for Judy Garland]
cracking the mold they made for you
and the little box of stars-
a voice made of everything living
spends all its diamonds
in one song
and still has more:
carved from a nightingale quarry-
outdistancing by many rubies
anyone else's rainbow;
we're opening now, a box of sky-
cloudy and bright
reconstituting everything submerged and
packed in lies you're
pealing out your perfect time in time
above all those
who couldn't repair
the sheen beyond blue
of the bluebird soul
savaged by idiots...
but she's in scarlet or in gold
and it's all holiday astonishment again-
and building the ship around her as she sings
breath by breath till breathless in the end-
notwithstanding-
shout Hallelujah! for the
rose-bright flare of song illuminating
more than was contracted for-
I am sure:
unique as a sunset thumbprint rainbow-ridged
perpetual as dreaming could ever be made to
be in sepia or technicolored.
you're all apart-
rebuilding a burnt-out nest
on every stage
till it shone
like a gold never seen
in the land of let's pretend:
a metasong sailing into space
becoming only you - yourself-
where is the place for us
and all our encores
broken from the stem
like the home you made for music
all along?
the seam in the earthquake shifts
and is never the same
mary angela douglas 22 september 2011
