To you Heavenly Father I wrote everything I wrote
and so I hope in my small notes
you will consent to be the light that
will not go out in all
my particoloured lantern poems
I hold up to you, See?
you have candled every one
to the least particle of its singing
and whether the day be drear
or even the mirrors be night
still in the small puddles after the april rains
and long consideration of the petals showering
the old pavements from the watercolouring trees
I see your clouds reflected
and their opalescence manifest
as if it were all all music in the end
even leaning from the window of my going away
and I know you can hear me.
mary angela douglas 4 september 2020
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