To The Unknown Russia

before this sun of scythian gold
were there these spires, these domes,
dreamed of by the dreaming

yet unborn, the later to come?
and were the bird cherries annointed
with starlight from so far away?

it's the Russia of imagination
long gone by that never strayed;
the bells of endless tolling

beyond the range of suffering
the heart forever unwon
there is this mysterious something

glint of His kingdom come
hidden from view
except, for some.

this isn't true.

mary angela douglas 23 may 2015