Sunday, October 02, 2016

On The Mirrors of Arvo Part And His Departure

yesterday you wrote
inscribed and ever inscribing
in the pooling of mirrors

crushing the kaleidoscopic colours
of feelings past music into an undiscovered realm
or as if angelic beings held enormous

mirrors reflecting music back
from its beginning in a universe
we could not know or forgot that we knew

or were we driven in fear from the yard of gold
by the dogs with eyes as enormous as teacups, windmills
in a neighborhood of sounds distressed
compressed our hearts boiling with the lids on tight

so that you alone guessed and then took note
in notes as rare as certain birdsong at night
did you wake to hear? sheer

refractions of the rose, the violet, the forest shards
ah children turn again, you whispered, Christmas uncle
that you are

and then it works

the battered toy, the hidden borealis, star
no longer receding

and in your midnight watches so composed
beyond the guarded borders of our sighs
of the whirling angels that we all stood still

a kind of requiem in ourselves
weeping that this music filled
an ache in the soul
never before comprehended

mary angela douglas 2 october 2016