That I May Find

whatever princess it may be this time

from what foreign tale or bleak design

suddenly flecked with gold I'll glimpse

the delicate slippers mired in the mud

and she is at the crossroads again

halfway exiled from the castle

on her way to who knows when

what life is this recorded that holds

neither history nor science nor anything

in the proven realms

and yet still seems to me the shred of a kind

of reality familiar from our birth the partially lifted veil

the key to life on earth

and catching the threads as best I can

I'll wander on the journey planned

in some mysterious way run off the rails

that I may  find long last, the one true Dale.

mary angela douglas 29 march 2021