To The Lark Descending

[to the prophetic Hans Christian Andersen,

for his fairytale: "The Emperor's Nightingale"]

(to the tune of Vaughn Williams "The Lark Ascending" played more and more faintly...)

it's so important to cry out loud

whenever it is you're with that crowd

and suddenly they've come to displace

the real bird with the fake-

though it is jeweled;

though it knows all the variations

clockwork, on-demand and hops with one wing folded!

gift-wrapped! they'll exclaim yet you have lost

the nightingale forever, it may be

while looking down at your shoes;

examining the wrong clouds. or standing in line

at the cafeteria, parsing it another way-

just to get through your day.

gone in an instant! wept the kitchen maid;

the goose girl in the hunting blind,

tending the geese

while the skies turned to glass

and then,shattered.

this- mattered!

ah echo this, echoed this through angelic realms

so vital it is to cry out loud,

not to prevaricate

when this much is at stake:

the life of an Emperor-

the future state of Poetry on earth...

(too late).

the docked wings of the Soul

mary angela douglas 22 december 2014