What We Learned In The Blue Winds

we learned the myths, that the winds swirled blue
in picture books long before school we knew
that there was music in the faraway

that summers could be dreamed into
and all was cherries, raveling clues
in folk tales where the heart was new

then mended swiftly with a golden thread
and everything in story books was true
because Grandmother said so

and she knew
and played piano in late afternoons
and Liebestraum and this was beauty

in any key to all that we seemed meant to be
and twilight staining our driveway
purple as arbors in the day that melted

where we would still be lingering if we could;
leave me to remember now.

then it was evening and the stars were ours
and we would dream into the hours
the music of the faraway.

coinage of days and Christmas laden
and folk songs of the towered maiden
and shadows on the flowered lawn

of flowers when they all were gone
their perfumes diffused in garden rain.
and through it all the green refrain

we're turning into day by day
to God's mysterious murmur tuned

when colouring in our pale blue room
or singing to ourselves the songs
occurring in the winter dawns

or in between our dimestore plays
in tinsel arrayed
when time stood still

in a single ray:

gleaming for us in a memorable way
showing the soul's bright underlay,
the music of the faraway.

mary angela douglas 15 december 2018