Christ

they burned the sun
and then, all tears were seared
the retina of the sky

clouded over
vision slipped through the crowds
bright angels steered the boat

and he wept.
he slept the dream of heaven opening
and candles fell to earth

the winged promises
and their flowers
under the snows

birds bloomed on the wind
the dove spent days returned

the roses cried
and petaled under 
the last wilderness.

mary angela douglas 5 january 2018