when the ground gives way
we walk in dreams
hopscotching over the earthquake seams
when the ground gives way
when the sun falls over in the dimming sky
we carry on with the light nearby
the light nearby.
when the larder is bare we eat the clouds,
cloudberries and singing aloud,
we have sweet music for dessert
sweet music.
and everything else, we live on a dare
that God is really everywhere
and whether we lack or whether we don't
we stick to Him like a warm winter coat
and rest when we're weary
and laugh when we're not
and thank God for anything else that we've got
the hard or the simple way.
mary angela douglas 20 january 2022
A poet is a realist, resigned to life's limits, but also a believer, grateful for moments of boundless and poignant awareness. Dreaming lifts your steps. Hopscotching 'where the ground gives way' is a fine image for keeping a childlike spirit, leaping through life's empty stretches.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is a hopscotch game played by children in the Italian Alps, in which their steps trace the body of a gigantic man. Their small steps partake of life that is cosmic in scope. I invite you to read my poem THOUGHTS ON THE MACRANTHROPE.