Holy Mary, Mother Of The Sequined Light

[to the Lord Jesus, the only once and future, King]

Holy Mary, Mother of the sequined Light
where Love does not pretend;
casting up roses on the uncomprehending

darknesses again-
we beseech you, and we pray,
for the margins of gold are thin

for the chidren with half wings
who would take flight from this, an
unrelenting night;

from this
tormenting earth where
Love should not pretend.

begin from the alphabet of my tears
to reconvene, sad Years! the
orphaned languages; the fears

that where we turned, dreaming it was His Kingdom, was in vain;
and now the rains have come; o may the floods not engulf us.

Mary, of the tongue cut Light defend

the ravaged who would be gold and glad, again;
bluer than sapphires on a summer day's
and ah, the singing wave/

truer then, to the One, the only One who saved,

who saves Forever.

here in the singing, singeing sounds a mystical Poetry
where we would survive to find in some distant Spring
it is we ourselves will burst suddenly into fine

green leaves and the little birds border us round
with all your flowers.

mary angela douglas 20 november 2015;29 february 2016