The Child You Wanted To Be Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

the child you wanted to be
makes treehouses out of the blue and green nothing
abra cadabra right in the middle of math class

is good at weaving clouds and speaking them aloud
and silver birds with rains at summer camp
and in-between

learns everything by heart
fearing nothing dark
and plays the harp

makes new myths for the constellations
finds violets in the snows
(and they're not frozen)

a horse caparisoned of mists

on which you ride through skies
blue as pinwheels pink as bliss
and dressed for the occasion

in the lace of days gone by
you learn not to cry a little less
every day.

and to pray standing still or
running full force down the hills at recess
as though the wind

was rushing through you

mary angela douglas 8 march 2016