THE DEEPER BLUE IN THE DISTANCE
What is it that we cannot put into words
Get into our paintings
Capture in our songs not
even in netted starry singing
or when we're reciting our once upons
That keeps us restless
On a day of festival
That lingers and then is gone beyond the touch of snow
to translate ever
I don't know! I don't know!
that murmurs forget me not then leaves no trace
That beckons us even as children
In gleams most fugitive and arresting
leaving amazement in its place or inexplicable bouquets or
suddenly seems to catch at our sleeves
as though we knew it
As though we should melt with it if we could
far from the colours of sea and sky
The deeper blue in the distance that eludes us
that makes us cry for want of it, suddenly orphaned
that haloes us from birth
That cannot be found
On any map
On earth.
mary angela douglas 7 june 2024
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