All Those Lion Dens

I dreamed that God would lift me from this place
above the lovely tree lines and the sorrowful town
above the Goodwill lost and found

the remnants for the formerly working poor
and the Angel of Death out keeping score
in the count of all the homeless heads

no longer called by their Christian names.
There I would see from galaxies so far removed
the rains sweep in, the birds and then I would

hear  transfiguring birdsong flooding everywhere
the poor had once been.
all those lion dens.

mary angela douglas 3 august 2019