Stone Gardens

I have been where people turn  to stone
dissolving into landscapes of their own
then called a gipsy I moved out

or I was thrown.
you know, it doesnt matter either way.
light comes back another day.

you look at the stars
as others did before you
knowing there is something else

if only you could find it in some book on the shelf.
no neighborhood feels familiar
countries keep changing borders

there is law and order
whatever that means.
occasionally the screen is lifted

from the Great Oz.
gold is sifted.
there's a pause

and you drink your tea
reading the signs.
and sigh, Thy Will,

not mine.
knowing the saints are looking on.
whatever happens

to right or wrong.
you only wanted to drift among the flowers
but all you see is the drive toward power.

the ones weeping in its wake.
whom God cannot forsake.

mary angela douglas 29 june 2019