Friday, September 16, 2016

An Ordinary Sky Might Rain Down Pearls

an ordinary sky might rain down pearls;
the children trudging by with overcast sighs
to neighborhood bus stop corners, the school day's world,

swinging their plaid satchels, dreamed-
it's an ordinary sky
in almost december;

we would like to move the
hands on the clock,
the weeks of the calendar

as in old films on the late, late show:
the vast days ticking by like seconds;
or to be imbued near the yellow cafeteria trays

as if with sudden music; the Ghost of Christmas Past
on a casement draft... floating
out of arithmetic and never looking back.

oh that the sky in sympathy at last
full up with quelling angels
could comply: brnging us

baskets of blizzards
from an ordinary sky
tied up with silver ribbon,

the scarlet and the gold.
and gaily knowing nothing
we needed to know but mystery

in the freezing cold we'd burst
into the schoolyards, still in the day
and freed from history!

in the purple of starry dismissals,
like the Magi,
on our way.

mary angela douglas 13 september 2016