he died tonight
his ragtag army said
turning away from the Capital
trying to think of other things instead
he died tonight
or by late afternoon
and paid their golden tax
and we are left now to resume
life or its semblance
with the questions we would
have asked him had he lived
one minute more
walking along the shore
or murmuring among ourselves:
what sunset's here?
or is it the world's strange end
that ever he called us friends
when we went on from year to year
so blithe and astonished
by the kind of man he seemed
even more by the One he was
and what he dreamed of us, insisted
we could be...
tearswept is the time of doves
departing the arc
finding nothing left that's green
and the Flood gone over our heads
while we repeat, rehearse the dread
of the last, few days and which we
argued would shine in His kingdom most
the Father. Son or Holy Ghost
and who of us was closest.
oh God
that we were dead
and not the King
the ointment's broken now
in the myrrh scented dark
o Jesu here in my heart I finally see
we are your wandering stars
destined to be
who in your rusted armor now are
thrust into a dissolving world.
mary angela douglas 20 september 2017
his ragtag army said
turning away from the Capital
trying to think of other things instead
he died tonight
or by late afternoon
and paid their golden tax
and we are left now to resume
life or its semblance
with the questions we would
have asked him had he lived
one minute more
walking along the shore
or murmuring among ourselves:
what sunset's here?
or is it the world's strange end
that ever he called us friends
when we went on from year to year
so blithe and astonished
by the kind of man he seemed
even more by the One he was
and what he dreamed of us, insisted
we could be...
tearswept is the time of doves
departing the arc
finding nothing left that's green
and the Flood gone over our heads
while we repeat, rehearse the dread
of the last, few days and which we
argued would shine in His kingdom most
the Father. Son or Holy Ghost
and who of us was closest.
oh God
that we were dead
and not the King
the ointment's broken now
in the myrrh scented dark
o Jesu here in my heart I finally see
we are your wandering stars
destined to be
who in your rusted armor now are
thrust into a dissolving world.
mary angela douglas 20 september 2017
