God Grant To The Countries In The Fine Mists Of Their Edens (Final Version) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

God grant to the countries in the fine mists of their Edens
remembered
a returning way through the fairytale woods
even as music is barely heard at first
when the children open their eyes
in an unfamiliar room.

and if the skies above my page are snowless still-
missing Christmas and the evergreen-
let flowers be gathered by imaginary springs
where the waters flow over the bruised soul.
it's deep in our winter caverns I keep sweeping up
the broken nebulae around your hallowed Face

or pressed against the windows of Your far kingdoms
I'm just keeping still.
awaiting starlight and the rose corolla
of a somehow never ending Grace.

mary angela douglas 14 january 2014; 6 november 2023