Forgive Me If I Remain Ignorant

forgive me if I remain ignorant
of the routes of silk, of spices
of the rise and fall of the dreaming child

while gathering into my silver baskets
all possible birdsong.
forgive me for vanishing so often

in the schoolroom
or far from the working day
into the reveries

hidden within clay
journeying to the center
of my imagined earth

and overfond of ferns
while they forever whisper
when will she ever learn.

I learned to ask this thing

how can stars be so vast
and the working day so small
so petty as not to be seen

though magnified to unwarranted sheen
forgive me for failing the eye test
on these and other things

Deemed Important by Our Leaders.
the most brilliant, in any room.
what is freedom for sometimes I think

if not to wool gather gold

or like Poe, to contemplate El Dorado
urging the mists forward;
the horses forever mired in mud.

or what is this republic anyway
all republics foundering in their cloudless Day
when they mark a trail far from God.

maybe it's that way, finally,
everything goes astray

but the republic of music
of High and Intractable Song

all possible birdsong and
the heart appeased
if not, nations.

mary angela douglas 31 august 2018