Tuesday, October 01, 2013

The Poem I Would Like To Be Has Crystal Birds

[to Henry Treece]

the poem I would like to be has crystal birds
singing on a string of utter loveliness decking
the earth and yet they

fly into an open blue.
translucent partitas, they never die.
the poem I would like to be
is often softest green transposed into scarlet;

burnished, it's the eye of the storm
furnished, the house not made with hands:

a tabernacle set with beryl
with carnelian with every childhood word,
Dove-bright, increasingly, a network of pearls.

or, may it be my better angels pale jade whispering of
the floating fleeting moonlight
memorized by leaves.

it's weeping beyond all heartbreak;
starriness swaying on the rims of flowers
in neglected fields.

beginning again and again

mary angela douglas 1 october 2013