PROMISE

 

the cold in summer the ice cube cold refreshment

when you are fevered and restless hanging like a scarecrow

wilted in the heat the cold you can imagine in your sleep

in quenching dreams

write about that I taught my heart and learn to sing about the

green grass newly sprung

they wrote about before when they were merry and young

lost poets centuries ago not lost to me

their minstrelsy

why should I forget them who kept me gracious company

write about fountains of grace

take your place with them

I told my soul and smiled

into the long mirrors of their singing

even if the birds turn back and the springs retreat

write of joy, and little of grief

that others may find sweet relief and you yourself,

it's true

in the gold lining the thundercloud

of rain spilling, splashing onto the wilderness flowers

in the shade of the moon of promise.

and in your vernal hours.

mary angela douglas 14 june 2023