Indigo

[[f all the seas were ink...

Mother Goose rhyme]

ink has spilled,

flowed into a sudden darkness.

the ink has spilled

there's nothing left to write

except to you

on a  very thin thread of what remains

but the thread

is gold, I said

though there was no record

I said anything at all

oh who will look into this for us

when feeling's all eclipsed, when

ink has spilled all over the world

the ink has spilled the poets go

into shock

who will patch the moon

the little stars

the bruise on the Sun...

when all the shadows run together,

viewed as one

then how can the answers flee

when every border shows

no margin for our errors-

the ink has spilled

coating the seas

coating the far distances

come, Oh Lord

oh write to us In Light.

and still the rivers of our spilled ink

our indigo weeping

mary angela douglas 28 august 2014