then all the translations sounded the same
only the original flew free,
while the world of small victories
clawed through was all that
they could do
while he flung himself down
from the top note of the psalm
becoming no blue mountain.
I thought he would be a cloud
or fall into a silver lake
but he became
the lost reverie of Praise.
now there is reville somewhere
and whiter, the risen moon.
who will rouse the sleeping tunes,
delineations at Land's End.
whom will God send now.
mary angela douglas 12 december 2017
only the original flew free,
while the world of small victories
clawed through was all that
they could do
while he flung himself down
from the top note of the psalm
becoming no blue mountain.
I thought he would be a cloud
or fall into a silver lake
but he became
the lost reverie of Praise.
now there is reville somewhere
and whiter, the risen moon.
who will rouse the sleeping tunes,
delineations at Land's End.
whom will God send now.
mary angela douglas 12 december 2017
