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, January 05, 2015
Sea Chant Going Under Near The Rose Streaked Piers
when I wash up on your shores ah Lord
may I not be mistaken for mere sea glass
in birthday parties' pink and blue; snatched by pirating angels.
o just a tangle of starfish, perhaps they'll coo, while others kick the driftwood
drifting senselessly now on land ah! with no crackjack prize in hand.
oh, may You recognize
when I cry out again for saltless water:
no lilac shell! where false words echoing echoed
calendar long by those mistaking sand
dollars for your Stars.
wherever you are I Am, you said:
may I Believe into whatever agony of a language they
translate me to:
this is your heart though I drown in the world
so many times I can no longer be taught to breathe by anyone licensed.
yet, I live- each time I sink, no matter how far under:
to seek, to find your clear, clear green
they cannot plunder.
mary angela douglas 5 january 2015;6 january 2015 Feast of the Epiphany