Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Reading The Book By Heart And In My Sleep

reading the book by heart and in my sleep
I follow the page of snow and try to weep
but I weep gold and know by this

I am latched in the fairy tale and will
not wish away what follows next;
I'm reading the book by heart

and need no pretext, library card
or interdepartmental vexation;
waiting in line no longer or for vacations;

soft as a bird in a nest of intricate
things plucked here and there by glittering wonder
picked from pale rainbows, unaware
and over the waterfalls tumbling down
only to rise and fly
above the netherlands where

they ask me why, why
do you have your nose forever
in a book tick tocking your life

away, unequal to all tasks
frown the taskmasters tapping a foot;
I'm reading the book at last

and cannot say to you anyway

in my sleep you don't understand
that it's my heartbeat
reading everything

and garnering all the wishes.

mary angela douglas 27 july 2016