the distance between the words is the way you had come
the way you had been led thinking that you had time
that time was a kind of ocean that you were on
and so you floated there or were dashed by waves
or you went under only to emerge once more to the air
in a hidden mermaid music beyond despair and published
and the sunlight no longer filtering
through dark green waters
then you made ripples ripples that disappeared
and other things disappeared too, with you
leaving their imprint on your mind your heart like a spare
consciousness or on ours or on mine
your floating fleeting heart known only to God
the hidden mast who asked oh daughter of the wave
what brought you here
rippling and rippling
out of time at last.
and crowned with the flowering of language.
mary angela douglas 3 february 2020
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