Friday, November 21, 2014

I Rest In The Mysteries

I rest in the Mysteries though
they tell me not to, or seem to-
with pointed glances and amused
almost to imply

how dim I am to dream
I hold His light within such small hands
but I remember when

alone, outside, and as a child
I stood so still in a singular ray of light
inhabiting Happiness near the flower beds

and in a ruffled wind.

why not now as then
though many years have gone
and though the light comes down so hard

on these scant modern scenes
on winter afternoons.
alone, within, I keep the music still of

Light, like Love that cannot change,
whatever filtered through.
His gold glows all the same

and in my heart
and I am not ashamed
whether particle or wave's
remaindered here.

mary angela douglas 21 november 2014