They Keep You In The Box Sometimes I Think, Jesus

they keep you in the box sometimes I think, Jesus,
like a doll they got for Christmas real expensive
and though it is a beautiful box all white and gold

with a light blue top and stars on the
surface like gold gilt
that won't come off that easily (we tried)

little candles inside that flicker on and
off like a Christmas display
I wonder if you feel stifled there.

with all the cantatas.

I think you liked fresh air, the open skies and
sleeping out of doors near the olive trees
where you could count the stars.

I think you were something more than the best
we can think of you in Sunday school
in our little flounced dresses

our pearl button gloves.
or even on our own at home, in stray moments wondering,
before being called to supper-

who you were were you

more beautiful than stained glass though you were shattered
like glass in the end yet all the pieces
came together again and so will we

and when they saw you  next
you cooked them breakfast
fish most real

maybe with some kind of native fruit peel
and you were there and
we are here now

with our guessing games somehow
only knowing that you came
and that you love us still.

mary angela douglas 3 april 2016