soli Deo gloria
beautiful obscurity I have come to know
the hem of the soul from the inside,
rimmed in gold
and in the waking nights have spent such coinage
on God, doling out the graces.
If they accuse, if they accuse you oh my soul
of not working hard enough God knows
what is made in tears.
through sheer curtains, the ice in the breeze
bee sting and honey in the same blanched hour;
building the blocks of abcs
with childish real intensity
though mockery seeps through
taking all from You
we vow to build anew, even overdue
even on our knees,
in beautiful obscurity.
mary angela douglas 19 november 2018; rev.25 january 2019
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem