THE THIEF OF WISHES
(to the lyrical Welsh singer, Mary Hopkin, imagining her singing this, if it were a song)
neither earth nor sky, here comes the thief of wishes
to filch the light from children’s eyes from the very sun
that shone on you, Persephone in your dress of wild iris,
neither shore nor sea.
there lurks the thief of wishes warning
those who should be told; instead my soul: ach, prithee
o, flee that Messenger!
who knows you have what he still lacks
or weep fresh centuries away
or shake your Christmas angels,
sleeping fast, awake-
or wait at a turquoise landing
smoothing your dress of pearl till
not a lemon drop’s left;
a train in the train yard.
she'll murmur from a glassy stream
as one who knew but was not known:
keep stealing the beat from the heart
the right word from the page
while the windmills turn as if in another age but
my own fields
my own...
fields are seldom green.
trampled by those who seem to be
and yet, are not...
I saw in a dream that I had forgot
the thief of wishes scoop the moon
till birdsong flew but not the tune
and I kept dreaming this refrain:
earth, glitter with the jewels
of what remains!
mary angela douglas 29 august 2013;19 june 2022;9 march 2023
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