To the Russian poets and all poets;the shimmering, undefeated "cloud of witnesses" who conveyed at great cost in their own way: the connecting idea between Heaven and earth. And most of all, to the poet from the former Soviet Union who, dying, in prison, wrote his final poem in his own blood on the wall: the single word, "Hope". Whole-hearted To the Triune God in memory of Mary Adalyn Douglas.
Copyright 2006-2016, U.S. and International Copyright all rights reserved by Mary Angela Douglas
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Where, Larkspur, Have The Purple Winds Gathered
where, larkspur,have the purple winds gathered
I asked the flowers in the picture book.
I asked the flowers.
didn't you hear me? they screamed in school yards into the clouds so no one else would hear.
while year after year near the apple trees
I pelted them with prisms in my sleep.
why in group pictures must you look so far-away?
as if the snows settled only on your shoulders?
brushing the lace away. I turned to go- to go forever from the mocking angels;