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
Monday, December 01, 2014
Words Fall Away From My Language Tree
words fall away from my language tree
is it autumn, then, I asked the tear streaked wind;
oh what is vanishing?
so much remains to say,
to paint in swirls on the clouds forever shifting
goodbye to the trees, goodbye to the air
they shine and then they are not there.
is it the same with words, my words
falling in golden shards echoless anywhere-
everywhere I turn a message burns as if from God a leaf falls before from a tree and there is no wind
and in the middle of the sentence where you walk away