THE WHITE LANE
I saw in a vision of sifting snows
the white lane leading unto Light
and I in the thick of it
wordless, without song.
and then the luminous upswing
of the fated birds breaking into
singing, Song after long wars,
the scars, diminishing.
how long I stood, seeing that it was good
and the dream all drifted down
as though in a globe of snow
I had found my calling.
how can I tell you
who may not want to know
that the hour of the white lane had
come upon me, God's hands
being overfilled with blossoming.
and I, no longer afraid, disabused
the white lane leading unto Light
and I in the thick of it
wordless, without song.
and then the luminous upswing
of the fated birds breaking into
singing, Song after long wars,
the scars, diminishing.
how long I stood, seeing that it was good
and the dream all drifted down
as though in a globe of snow
I had found my calling.
how can I tell you
who may not want to know
that the hour of the white lane had
come upon me, God's hands
being overfilled with blossoming.
and I, no longer afraid, disabused
a utility
where the hedgerows broke
into a rose incandescence
never before seen or perfumed.
there, at the lands end of ruins
where the hedgerows broke
into a rose incandescence
never before seen or perfumed.
there, at the lands end of ruins
in a minor acropolis shining.
mary angela douglas 7 march 2016;15 june 2024
mary angela douglas 7 march 2016;15 june 2024
No comments:
Post a Comment