Knowing This, Be Comforted Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

when gardens spoke themselves into flowers
on the very page we looked at
we thought only this was how

it should always be as the golden hours flowed by
so river sweet
and ate our ice cream dutifully

dressed in our Easter lily frocks

and watched the clocks
to see if we could really tell
when the hand was on the three,

what did this mean?
was it time for Christmas.
glowing bulbs on the trees

in manifest colours?
how lily lulled our mother, grandmothers
would have lifted us in sleep

to cradle in the fleecy clouds
to roselit kingdoms ever after
if we could have been spared

our whole life long
even the little disasters.
and even now, I think

when subject to unwarranted power

when the soul is pierced and on the brink,
still it is in, a gardenia spiked hour.

mary angela douglas 23 july 2016