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
Saturday, December 06, 2014
The Expeditionary Dream Arrives
[a song for children I almost knew] the expeditionary dream arrives
packed in a green crate;
complete with ice floes,
the catalogue said.
you check to see no parts are missing. no stars!
cracking the lid as the golden seals
start barking; the rainbow shiver off the ancient ice is sparkling.
how will you know where to stash it till Christmas?
how will you keep the Seals happy and quiet?
and won't it be hard at school to count the days?
better bring a warm coat you daydream through arithmetic and six hero sandwiches.
goodbye my friends, you'll whisper to the goldfish.
to the coffee table rings.
will there be colas there? your child mind strays-
Polar bears streaked with the Northern lights?
plenty of daylight to set things right.
warm socks, packed in Samsonite (midnight blue.)
one clock to wind up. a flashlight or two.
sardines from the cabinet; strawberry jam
comic book stacks, a Thanksgiving ham
(brown sugar cured); last summer's sun.
your packing's done... and then, your little sister wants to come.