Sleepers As They Dream Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

sleepers as they dream
glissanding through pure violet canals
displace their own weight

in music; in the silks of the soul
raging, racing toward a moon that vanishes
and then reappears, but differently-

as you may appear to yourself
not as yourself exactly, occasionally-

as though it became
a cloudy room,
a lopsided night.

the glass bells rung.
the honey thread spun.
and will they go- will they surpass

all earthly sight one day-
where God Himself cries 'Stay! '
etching the stars like a heartbeat

floating free from sorrows?

or knotting the golden thread
before they awake,
lest it all unravel.

mary angela douglas 10 october 2015