FLEE

if you don't get out at the first surmise

they will make you believe

the ground is the sky

and the sky is the ground

and you look around

and somehow there are never

any witnesses

when you agree sugarlamb

just to get some reprieve

ambivalently they turn your

answers upside down

and softly you retract

but there's no going back

the mood turns grim

so that nothing you say may

ever be on time for the matinee

or balm on the blaming, trumped up waters

oh my bushwacked sons and daughters

no hint of

what you were before their non averrals.

all that shortfusing

of gaslighting musings

that makes you feel you are always losing

reduced to less than a tithing tenth of dimension

because of your so mild dissension

and no one to hear you cry it's a lie it's a lie

and there was no warning tag to tell you

in case of travesty, break the glass

or even if you did you are sure at last

you would be shattering yourself

who can explain these things in words

how it feels to be a captive bird

withouten any bail

or the tongue cut sparrow from that

grievous fairy tale

still there is God

God who hears their vapid showy prayers

and your gasping real one

o Flee.

they have swallowed the key

and all I was in the Mystery

every single bird call

sipping my Soul till the babies bawl

you weep in the dark dark wood

far darker than Dante's it's understood

here's my advice oh don't be nice;

just FLEE

at the first angelic opportunity

hack through the ice;

at the first fissure

believe the earthquake

believe your own eyes

your heart sinking down

is the cleanest clue ever

the penknife that only nicks you this time

later will sever.

oh may it be, never.

Trust only God.

forgive from the great distances

at rest in the hurricane's Eye,

set adrift on the peacock coloured clouds

and bourne Heavenward.

mary angela douglas 28 november 2022;7 february 2023