Saturday, July 02, 2016

To A Saint's Childhood, Rayed in Gold

your heart encased like a paperweight flower,
like an early blossom in late winter's hour,
God has kept like a penny in His shoe,

like bread and butter in the tower,
a last meal cherished.
you with your mystical bent

will almost comprehend
while waiting for the winds to turn
your toy boat round again on a lake as smooth as silk

that you have been preserved for something;
not for yourself alone.
meanwhile, you live, you love to live

in the shadow of His throne.

mary angela douglas 2 july 2016