Waiting To Resume...

keeping the files in order
on the edge of doom
waiting for our

old names to resume
familiar scenes
the ones

wreathed in happiness
the glimpse of heaven
molten through

the threadbare curtains of earth.
the tinged rosiness of
the country dances

and I'm the girl in the dotted swiss with

the merry go round prancing horses
splashed in all colours
and we go around and around

each time glimpsing
home in the near distance
still illuminated,

pastorally speaking.

I go back I return to common
speaking the butter on the table
the substance of glory

or to churn peach ice cream
on a summer porch

or the buttermilk in the
distant Celtic song
of the dairy maid

met by a prince.over a garden fence
do you know this 
and are you cherry trellised too

lost in the morning dews,

i want to ask the people
on the morning train
but they are not the same

and God knows they know
certainly I am not one of them
up to my neck still

with the buttercup gold
that brushes my chin
whenever I think of Him

of God golden in my childhood
and all of us in pale forget me not
whether they will it so 

or not.

mary angela douglas 22 october 2017