to say the beautiful thing within reason:
to say it for its own sake
so that Light may shine
into somber corners in the great cathedrals
of blessed memory;
in the unlit portion of the house
where the steeples came down
where we try to live beyond
the color of the soul that is cold in winter
where the snow doesn't melt until summer
and then we are parched and ask water,
living water to go on
to whisper the beautiful thing
days without number not for credit or fame
only to keep the blessed names alive.
mary angela douglas 2 june 2020
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