Sunday, August 14, 2016

There Is A White Silence

there is a white silence that comes over me
whenever I see the snowfall descending
as if I were suddenly become

the dream that moonlight has when half asleep of

the crystal air.
through an open window
I test my soul

that longs to step out through
the translucence of clouds;
the crystals whirling in the night air;

that wants to fly out into it
as though nothing could keep me here,
not the farmhouse in the distance,

the thought of what is dear to me

nor the silos of hidden light
I have stored up all the years
for the bitter days:

heaped there in plenitude is a secret gold.

and I only I white as the may flowers
am certain now of where to go;
no longer drifting like the snow;

am leaning now over the sill of the world

I must one day leave, unseen
though I will still be here
in the beauty of it, not quite vanished yet

and unable to forget.

mary angela douglas 15 august 2016