Legend

who is the daughter of the birds
always dressed in blue
who sings yet will not speak

whose authority is music
and whose peace.
these words came to me

as a mirage, a fountain in a desert
as a myth that should be
though it was not.

I have knotted the fringe of it with my tears.

there was a daughter of the birds.
on her wings the emblems of unremitting flight
and in the winter seas, a respite.

a silvery tree.

she sang at twiligtht the notes melting
into the antiphons
into the child's song a fragment

far from home.
and all she sang was robin's egg blue
so that the children could see her

in a day less than gold.

let the orphans dress in pearl.
let the fountain be everlasting

the fountain of music
of the music that heals
let the daughter of the birds

transpose herself becoming music in the end
the endless sky
the dome of blue.

mary angela douglas 9 july 2020