rising not to the occasion of the king spent day
forgive us, Father, that we stumble on our way
over so much gold in the soul of everything
You have made
and utter dark proclamations.
what have we done
with the regal nights
that you have offered us in the purple of your stars
bleeding beauty by beauty from a vaster twilight
than we can comprehend who end
what you would only begin
oh why take flight from Divine love
so duly articulated;not to feel at all
so that the bells cry out, cathedral stung
and peal with desolation?
who can defend us now
at the borders of the ruined countries
of our hearts
who call light dark,and marr the universe
of your sighs and borrow not what you would more than lend
but only steal
and do not, do not make amends.
mary angela douglas 14 september 2022;23 february 2023
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