To the Wrens On The Lawn Remembered

the wrens of day awake and in their music

all they make how often I have been so happy

tilting see saw, touching the clouds happy

seeing the treetops from high up

from the backyard swing and as they arrange themselves

in the hedges dreaming they are ornamental;

somehow the clouds got into my song

the wind through the leaves

the wind through the leaves

if only I could that music make unceasingly

in the wan wan world forlorn

with the small morning glories 

of song for its own sake made from

the frail and trembling heart

under it all

raising the flag of its joy.

without fanfare, lilting 

lifting the heaviness that was the sky;

the long watch of the night.

mary angela douglas 1 november 2020