Mary Angela Douglas
I Dreamed A Dark Green Pilgrimage - Poem by Mary Angela Douglas
I dreamed a dark green pilgrimage
unfolding on newsreels lit by a midnight
sun or catholic candles blooming
sunbursts on film the candles wavering
yet not, the saints. the shattering of pale roses
down, adown I cried: whither, these miracles unending?
none answered me. not one.
I, a mere witness to the spectacles of healing
cloistered beyond the front row seats
beyond the balconies even.
I'm in the front lobby or on some street wept my soul
I cannot recognize where no bus runs or cab is called
and I seem to hear singing
but it was my own voice streaming into
a strange music like a crystal cup
where sometimes an indifferent coinage
dropped and this was disonance I said
going on with the music anyway
beyond the fol de rol, the jesters sheening the tickets
bought and paid for by the jeweled attendees
I worked at times for
if at all until they decreed, no more.
but I footsore and memeless, even so
I caught the meaning of something behind the news
that the sun dissolved or everything I knew oh
Jesus of Nazareth
my castaway's candle,
brilliant stub oh
quench the floods the rise and the fall of
the faux events. the heart stripped of all sense
like a bird with no ark I strain against the tides
and dream of waking on the other side.
expensive moments past.
mary angela douglas 1 april 2015
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