Tuesday, November 01, 2022

IN OR OUT OF SEASON I PRAISE THE ROSE


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why is it sometimes a springlike breeze invades another

season

unexpectedly is it the climate of Heaven making itself known

so that you do not lose the scent of the Immortal Rose

how can I or you our own maytimes put by not miss

in ourselves the former blossoming

who were born like Rilke to love roses also in the heraldic

sense as much as in the immediate bouquet

or like Yeats   with his lovely rose upon the rood 

of time, having read them, reading them still

I am deeply inclined to be aligned

with these many petaled meanings and especially

the Christian chrism which is, to find the gate of Pearl

the Pearl of our adoration by the end

as Tolkien said it, the one myth that came true

and so I sing to You, my Heavenly Father, or try to

and to your Christ that Rose unfurling in the darkest nights

of the World and in our own Time

the Rose most crimson the Rose we have in mind

in these latter days the rose e'r blooming is set as

on an eternal stage where we may find to our amaze

caught out from the nickel and dime of it all

in secret sweet illuminating instances

all things are wrought in beauty for a reason

in or out, of season bringing us back to You.

oh may we be blooming, too.

and always not forgetting

the souls you have lent us

for the long journey

mary angela douglas 1 november 2022;17 february 2023

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