[to the poets afflicted in the Word]
cut to the quick of the living Word
we strive and crave the waters
crashing through the gates;
though gashed by a guarded silence,well-enforced
by the heartless sinecured, forever on the prowl.
oh, laying the jewels and end to end this way
may we be blessed even without bread,
with few friends or none at all-
to find the music that departed Eden with us
magnified at last
in the full mirrors of His shining
mary angela douglas 8 august 2014
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