Stone Gardens Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I have been where people turn to stone

dissolving into landscapes of their own

then called a gipsy I moved out



or I was thrown.

you know, it doesnt matter either way.

light comes back another day.



you look at the stars

as others did before you

knowing there is something else



if only you could find it in some book on the shelf.

no neighborhood feels familiar

countries keep changing borders



there is law and order

whatever that means.

occasionally the screen is lifted



from the Great Oz.

gold is sifted.

there's a pause



and you drink your tea

reading the signs.

and sigh, Thy Will,



not mine.

knowing the saints are looking on.

whatever happens



to right or wrong.

you only wanted to drift among the flowers

but all you see is the drive toward power.



the ones weeping in its wake.

whom God cannot forsake.



mary angela douglas 29 june 2019