GO I KNOW NOT WHERE;FETCH I KNEW NOT WHAT

go I know not where find I know not what my favorite title for

a story anywhere is from an ancient Russian tale

and I have sought at least in dreams to follow that directive

so that my hands bled from the nettles weaving the shirts

to set the captives free and waiting for in blind prayers

the downrush of delivering wings my life is spent

I seem to have wandered in vain along each snow covered primrose lane

for that which was not found or sought in me

but in the seeking oh what treasure there

in the lavender darkness close to despair to see Orion's band

or in a single shaft of sunlight half awake between hard lessons

see the Jacobean ladder in the mist and the traffic of angels

this is to live for poetry as it once was

the rose and the briar 

to sing beyond the resonance of earth half caught in the mists

and the rains never inured to disdain but

becoming lost in Time yourself

not found not lost either the in between

curve of the music where the ghosts are seen

the loved ghosts, the disappearing few that loved you

or seemed to...

to weep into the thorns to be forlorn in the world at large

yet inwardly rich that even in a ditch

you dream the years away and climb into the boat at last

that rows you to the Blessed Isles or are helped in

by those who guarded every tear

unknown to you, in your disgrace

though now you see them face to face.

The Holy Trinity.

mary angela douglas 12 july 2021