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