Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Be At Rest. The Ark Has Landed

I dreamed we were going home
not the last one. but the first
the one with the pale blue walls

the glass swans sailing
on the toy river
the lost thimble found

the thimble of gold
the locket of silver
the baby locks of hair

she must have kept somewhere,
our fond Grandmother.with the musical flair
there was the magnolia

floating in the silver bowl
the way she placed it, always just so
the theme from Paliacci...

the pine needles all over the

lavender rug
the Christmas tree still resplendent
and autumn's apples

summers nursery rhymes.
how far we have gone to lose you
every time beyond the bright mirrors

in the strange encryptions of the world
it was hardly the fairy tale road
and yet, there was gold.

that never disappeared
let us be launching now
caught out with our nets of dream

our natal stars
knowing where we are now
that it was Heaven

and will be, again.

mary angela douglas 18 september 2018