beginning again on the green leafed path
by Mary Angela Douglas
with the dew on the grasses, our diamonds,
or the overhang of orchid clouds
amazed at our looming shadows on the ground
all the colours!
and telling time out loud;
telling time by what He said:
"I will make all things new."
he said this I think, I feel,
in golden letters.
in the tick of the fairy tale clock,
and I play nocturnes again
on my Grandmother's Steinway piano
observe the irises
take comfort in the demitasse
the way my Grandmother pronounces it,
of hand painted roses, or violets;
on a background of cream. the late strawberries.
the view from the screen door
the sound of near bells
I implore you oh Heavens
for the calendar towel of linen in any year
with the old mill stream;
the songs my mother taught me
in a dream;
the songs without words.
the same cherished pines.
more time to remember
the way that we have come
not the setting,
mary angela douglas 19 may 2019