Small Christmas Fanfare For The Aftermath

 [“though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

I will fear no evil-

For Thou, art with me…”

-Psalm of David (the 23^rd Psalm, “The Lord Is My Shepherd”)]

the self-appointed jailers of the Unseen

I have seen

superseded by the glorias

of stalwart angels. Children, rise to the

God of all living whenever we are dying

from the lack of sunsets

in the corridors of ill-used power

at work or play

or used up daily

in unprecedented ways, in a chic disguise,

by colleagues of the Superficial. Lies.

and Faux Evaluators.

where are the fountains of Your truth?

on the outskirts of all this, moved farther out,

unzoned

receding like the stars in all my dreams

out of sheer necessity; still beautiful, though

fading in the mist to wind up burnishing some

otherwhere-

that I may drink

unbidden and unknown at the brink

of all Your shining, on a day, still-

and unenforced.

I feel Your glorias rise

in between the subtle beatings

barely recognized for what they are; hid well

within the gossip of the town, the office interchange

the retailed screed

and branding of the already branded

by Your Living sigh.

what further image do we need

if we are Yours?

or isn’t that enough to be-

beyond all water cooler,

non-profiting surmise-

in the sunrise of the truly free

beyond the ambiance of those

forever looking down and down

on, line-by-line

all those in the valley of Your sighs

who live on with You there:

enchanted beyond reproaching

wanting nothing more

mary angela douglas 29-30 september 2012