I think how great cathedrals rise
into the rose translucent skies
and wonder how they could withstand
the bitter histories, close at hand.
oh, could I not in some deep shade
far from the things that man has made
forge such a link to Beauty that would not be razed;
I asked beneath the wheeling stars
one fresh October wandering far
around a lake where mists arose
oh clouded, under Orion!
and now so many autumns, late,
I ask you Lord, can you please wait
until my small cathedral's done?
then I'll move on from sun to Son
and cast all bitterness aside
with no more questions to abide;
no longer tired, cut from the choir
for gazing up from spire to Spire.
mary angela douglas 5 august 2015;9 march 2016
into the rose translucent skies
and wonder how they could withstand
the bitter histories, close at hand.
oh, could I not in some deep shade
far from the things that man has made
forge such a link to Beauty that would not be razed;
I asked beneath the wheeling stars
one fresh October wandering far
around a lake where mists arose
oh clouded, under Orion!
and now so many autumns, late,
I ask you Lord, can you please wait
until my small cathedral's done?
then I'll move on from sun to Son
and cast all bitterness aside
with no more questions to abide;
no longer tired, cut from the choir
for gazing up from spire to Spire.
mary angela douglas 5 august 2015;9 march 2016
