here we are placed in the often beautiful scenery
whispers the soul remembering the first glance of the moon
the reflection of light on the glass
here we still are happy with the scent of grass new mown
trying to feel at home
still feeling, so often just slightly
miscast where joy doesn't seem to last;
home seeming so far back in the past.
Eden is always vanishing like a mirage
you go to your job and do the routine things
but sometimes you sob, sobs the soul
just echoing your thoughts,
because of anything, the slightest
tremor on earth. and you rehearse
what went wrong
the many layered cake, maybe it was a faux pas
to bring it on deck
right in the middle of the shipwreck.
then we remember nursery prayers
that Christmas feeling God is everywhere
even, even in this
wherever we are now
having perhaps burned the porridge somehow
banished the wish fairy
not sure how now
to correct that little mistake.
mary angela douglas 28 october 2021;12 april 2023
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