In Every Cell There Is A White Dove

[inspired in part, by the illustration The Ship Arrives, by Henry Justice Ford (from the Crimson Fairytale Book, Ed. Andrew Lang, Dover Publications Inc., NY) and by themes in English lyric poetry and Christmas carols.

and wholly by the One who said: “Let There Be Light”-]

in every cell there is a white dove

a white dove in a golden tree

a pale green window

looking out to sea

and every atom keeps, as well,

its particular dream of old:  of gold,

of copper, of selenium

     

of what it was made of, still-

in silica or star forever whispered once-

left, still to be

in every ransomed orbit, free.

in every cell there is a white rose

and a spiced wind embroidered for it.

a white rose and a red,

a little pleasing house, silk screened

where children sleep downstairs in summer

dreaming of a white rose or

a red

while in the garden of small words and broken wonders

forever keeping watch

I cry a town crier’s cry because I dare not drowse

to keep awake and living still

the far imprint I almost see and etched in cloud on clouds

I do not wish to banish by stepping

carelessly, there.

oh let my words be heard, and fair, as at the first,

when there was light because He only said so

for the child too far            

from the woodcutter’s cottage now-

from the parents grieving in a moonlit remorse.   

hold close the solace of long berried days before,

the pitchers of fresh cream in store

the blue cloth on the table spread, the honeycomb

glint of earlier Time when there was only Love:

through half-closed eyes, the lullaby, the sudden

gleams of the dove too

beautiful in the golden tree…

it’s you by the green window looking out to sea

It’s you in the white rose and the red,

the flowering wind that knows

the rainbowed ship and the singing will be turning home

though it was long ago He said that it would be…

mary angela douglas 2-3 september 2012