if I lose the white sun
as it appeared to me in dreams
amid blue icicles and near the holly bushes
of home if I lose the white sun
as it felt upon my tongue and at the precipice of
certain words
known only to the Holy Ghost
if I lose the white sun
the endless firs,unfettered, the lacework factories of clouds
the sound of water far from the realm of speech
I will break down in grief
as if were a child
barred from Fairyland
a saint, from a long envisioned Heaven.
mary angela douglas 5 july 2021
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