for those who wrote the poetry of rain
as if they mingled with it I write
each small refrain for those
who spoke in the language of clouds
I whisper this aloud
and with the wind to them I send
each's line's regal end
that is no ending.
for those who lived
the fragrance of the rose
the root the stem
the metamorphosis and then who
could who did dispose
with one phrase a world of woe
I dedicate my life as Rilke said
far beyond strife to live and
to go on knowing.
words, as the vessels of the Lord
contain all Beauty.
and enduring love.
mary angela douglas 8 february 2020
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