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
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Cloisonne Rose On Your Field of Blue
[to a lost brooch]
cloisonne rose on your field of blue
I lost once in the grasslands of summer
and then the trees wept crimson suddenly and
they wept gold
when I looked for you among the drifts;
how chill was the air
and no witnesses.
oh cloisonne rose
you cannot lose your petals there
whatever crack in the universe
has swallowed you up.
the little pink stars, the blue ones
shine for you, thinking they are sapphires;
twinkling at your mystical swirls of
fuschia on blue blue blue with a tinge of cream from the moon?
thinking you are some other sky in miniature:
your vintage freshness lost in time, oh
who will speak your language there
in the nests of the small squirrels;
in the snow barrows far from here mary angela douglas 18 february 2015