trees and the shadows of trees
down the long lanes remembered,
beckoning in dreams
I see and the fingers of moonlight
reconfigured where there is
this quietude, the night music
and the groves of a rustling like silk
when the winds come through,
night winds from the star
that I remember as if they were saying somewhere,
lost angels, finding again the way:
all this will fade and yet will remain;
the leaves, rustling, the forests in shadows
the pools of moonlight
and the night birds singing
and I so glad to be in their music
while I am awake
and yet, asleep
mary angela douglas 14 may 2016
down the long lanes remembered,
beckoning in dreams
I see and the fingers of moonlight
reconfigured where there is
this quietude, the night music
and the groves of a rustling like silk
when the winds come through,
night winds from the star
that I remember as if they were saying somewhere,
lost angels, finding again the way:
all this will fade and yet will remain;
the leaves, rustling, the forests in shadows
the pools of moonlight
and the night birds singing
and I so glad to be in their music
while I am awake
and yet, asleep
mary angela douglas 14 may 2016
