Start With A Star

start with a star

a little brighter than usual

flashing a lighthouse message

above scant trees.

is it that hard

to imagine?

you could be going somewhere else

than the errand you thought you'd choose

or was chosen for you:

a journey through purple darkness

beyond the Christmas card silhouettes

silk-screened across the indigo;

glitter on parchment representing snow

or starlight, take your pick.

and then a cold night.

you're in the fields or just at work;

not thinking of anything at the bus stop

and the light grows larger now

filling half the sky

and work grows dim.

start with a song.

you think you might have heard before

only, not like this, and not for Him

as if the notes had burst all bonds

and turned to gold around and through

your listening attuned to nothing else.

start with a feeling, almost a little jeweled

washed silver to gold and back again

and resin is singing too now

through all the winter trees

of gilded apples on the branches of the universe

you only thought you knew.

and life starting over with the Star.

mary angela douglas 25 december 2013