Fall Into God As Into A Snowbank

fall into God as into a snowbank,
you will not freeze.
or into april's breeze.

then will we be flowers?
asked the child so hopefully;
and may I be their queen?

may there be clouds of angels

and dessert afterwards?
fruit salad with all the
gooseberries, palest green, left in!

and the rubied, rubied maraschinos...
and I held all her words most carefully
as though they were music

that could vanish
almost, instantly
like snows dissolving into seas

while we had cherry tarts
for tea.

mary angela douglas 18 february 2016