This Flowering Of Leaves Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

God will dispense with the flame throwers

that apples of silver may not recede into pictures of gold

or the pitcher be broken at the cistern of snows the moon


a scrim on the well waters indisposed

while Jesus wept and wept stars

and they will chide me this green is deceiving

this flowering of leaves and you are mute


and the muted stream but I am not

I cried with violet intensity I am not

the speaker behind the scenes


and the Holy Ghost drifting out to sea

and standing still yet I am the Presence

whenever I stand and I don't cut the whirlwinds in my hands


and I will pray through the ink bright day in the clauses

of the april winds

and bend not

nor break


though the weight of spurious language

drive me to the ground


mary angela douglas 17 april 2020