Prayer Of The Minor Poets At The End

perhaps we have made like birds their nests from things like bright 

beads

or bits of glass, the bloom of red clover, the amulets of the past.

what we have made, we have made ourselves.

and prayed it would be beautiful to any passerby.

from one pintpoint of light from the galaxy of milkweed

we have fastened our songs to the sky or prayed for rains

and for the sun, not for acclaim but

out of sorrow, out of need out of even one shred

of the beatific vision we weaved what we wove

subject to derision.

sometimes when the wind cut the heart out of everything

or on the brink of indecision

still we have made

what we have made from greenest glades or from night shade

and ask for Your benediction.

on it all.

mary angela douglas 5 february 2021