Throwback (Final Version)

someday driving into the Caledonian,

into the mists of what is left of
an unexpected blue

and the folkways branching like cherries
and my heart as full of song as the pear
branch blossoms in May

unsure of whether it be pear blossom
or the light of uncertain stars
uncertain stars the light of my songs

the light of what does or doesn't belong in this century
and I a vivid ghost looking into dead mirrors
I will not waste away

nor seek as was said by angels
the living among the dead
with the rains I will be, and never lost

among Caledonian hills,
keeping the density of storm clouds
while they live, and full of bright birds

with the unexpected lightning of rainbows
around the Throne

and with the Holy Ghost discerning everything
singing as I can with the surging winds
the petals translucent as they are scattered

and as they sail;

well beyond the status quo the growth of capital;
well you may say, well, toward
the summits of gold.then:

God on high, Christ as he would be remembered
and brushing aside infernal gossip.
the need to know,

removing all its springs
just how the music is wound.
for the white and gold,for the white and gold;

the opaline weddings of the skies.
and Poetry as it would be known, unto God.

mary angela douglas 14 april 2018