[for Andrei Tarkovsky]
a diary on the underside of light
the blizzards inside the ruined cathedral
of the soul
the balloon cut free
is crashing on the underside of light
of light of light
neither daylight nor is it the moon's shading;
in the gardens of the child is it a rose of light?
as if it flowed from Dante then was
interupted, almost musical, to the point of tears?
is it the curvature of angels broken apart
from great distances;
a light,
barely comprehended in a dream
from which you don't want to
you don't want to
Awake
mary angela douglas 12 november 2015
a diary on the underside of light
the blizzards inside the ruined cathedral
of the soul
the balloon cut free
is crashing on the underside of light
of light of light
neither daylight nor is it the moon's shading;
in the gardens of the child is it a rose of light?
as if it flowed from Dante then was
interupted, almost musical, to the point of tears?
is it the curvature of angels broken apart
from great distances;
a light,
barely comprehended in a dream
from which you don't want to
you don't want to
Awake
mary angela douglas 12 november 2015
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