what can I have to do with battle stations
wearing the world on my sleeve like a heart
I used to do that
thinking it would matter
the world is the world
there is only one Saviour
I am not the Saviour
I am the same girl I was earlier
happy to stand in the wind on a hill at sunset
all by myself
and the wind feels only as if
God sent it
and it needs no translation
it is to me
the feeling of freedom
of purity, of light
a feeling like music
that carries your soul
but not too far
so that you are still somehow
anchored on earth
still here with the starlight overhead
sometimes disguised by late indigo clouds
and you want to write in their purple ink somehow
on a tablet of the evening sky
feelings too numerous to mention
thoughts like tears
or the birth of flowers
the presence of flowers
before this disappears
close enough to where you still
may go back and go home
like a child who wants no other place to be
and softly, firmly close the door.
mary angela douglas 21 november 2023
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