To The Golden Age And To The King Of Heaven

I was saved by the Golden Age.
by the notion of it in the notions counter of Heaven
and as it was recorded over long centuries. millenia

sinking under an emerald sea. we cry to loveliness
come back!

what was it we couldnt remember that stirred in a dawn wind.
we couldnt remember but a faraway gleam
of something that seemed so paradisical

and green.
something we once knew.
and each child knows knows with maypole ribbons fluttering

knew from the beginning and finds it sometimes in play
on the afternoon of something who can say what
a light appears in the sky like a birthday

from an unexpected source. and it rains down opals.
meteor showers in the daytime
or suddenly pink flowers small in the grass arrive overnight

express delivery from Whom?

and you stop to ask as you stoop down
oh who made you this beautiful.
I was saved by the golden age

by its name in every language on earth
by stories that accumulated from birth, by the old hymns
and all of the merry carols carillon ringing

by infinite regions singing about the house

the midnight angels heralding

and suddenly you feel you are on a stage

where the curtains will rise the moon and the stars with them
and nothing bad will ever happen again.

mary angela douglas 21 july 2020