Something Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

even in a closed system, God can breathe on the pane

out of the ash a sudden ember

though the eye remains



shuttered.

there, on the border of dreams

one may not remember in the morning



something stirs the curtains

in a heralding way.

who can say what it is for sure.



was it the wind

the child awaking early wondered

something else, that gold let in



why pretend if not to know

something glows; it isn't us.

something



in search of what was when:

Eden, and the rusted gates.



mary angela douglas 14 may 2019