To the Russian poets and all poets;the shimmering, undefeated "cloud of witnesses" who conveyed at great cost the connecting idea between Heaven and earth. And most of all, to the poet from the former Soviet Union who, dying, in prison, wrote his final poem in his own blood on the wall: the single word, "Hope". Whole-hearted To the Triune God in memory of Mary Adalyn Young- Douglas. Copyright 2006-2023, U.S. and International Copyright all rights reserved by Mary Angela Douglas
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
Age Isnt At All What Youd Expect
AGE ISN'T AT ALL WHAT YOU'D EXPECT
its moonrise and sunset all at the same time
maybe you dont want it to be this evergreen
the door opening out
the window coming in
counting the clouds
from way back when
the lost wish for gold
you dont recognize the planet that you're on
the songs you sing are carols
but it's only Spring
your soul is straight as arrows
they don't know a thing to ask you
so you let them
tell you whatever they want to.
they say you are old.
how could they know you
intend to live centuries
and that you already have
wearing down some path for them
until its smooth as pearl
you're still a girl inside
you might take flight at
any moment, a shy bird
singing the invention of song
the whole thing
by memory
and from a green heart.
mary angela douglas 10 september 2019
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