to William Blake
and the memory of Martin Burke
to the risen Christ
{Pascal had a vision and he could not write it down...}
I felt then all the ideas the immortal ones
were as rose windows in the great cathedrals
and a sunrise radiance beyond these crowned the effect
a double rose, transparencies each, of the Rose itself
and the stained glass petals in colours of
the Rose alone
this shone; it was Dantesque
but not second best not willed from a distant Age
but within/outside of Time and close in mind
the same vision through the rippled glass
evading the bombs
and the overpass
and it was radiant real
oF surpassing ambience, and ruddiness roseate
Light but with
all its folio editions still intact
replied
and I knew the Author by my side
at least I thought I did
but who was I to know Him
and to hymn the quarter note radiances
advances and retreats the wailing armies
in defeat
when the whole was so much more intricate,
at the Heart's core, the beveled edge of wonder
and the Age of Miracle
unfolding page by page
as though angels in their snowy drifts
arranged it; then became
page turners of an endless music
came then Heaven lit I heard them say
the Rose the Rose has won, shattered
and overcome all shattering
and bloomed and bloomed again
ridding the world of sin
the skies of doom
and yet awaits
the third blossoming
outlasting the world's interminable night
oh Rose,Rose sighed I
do not from this tower fall.
trifoliate Rose for us you bled
and here the dream half finished fled
mary angela douglas 14 january 2018
