To Every Poet Every Day Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

as many times as the spectrum shatters
and undeniable music is disbarred or
never brought to light in the first place

by those who stuff their ears with snow
or anything they find at hand -
only not to hear you-

that many times and more,
a hidden star retracts;
your misread nebula hangs fire-

and the broken poem spins backwards-
bone-china,
off the shelf

you are left whispering

pure gemstone words
in the aftershock of so much withering.

very real nightengale*, hold on
while hemorrhaging light-

it may be that the Emperor will live
though signs are few and an army of
miscreant words

is blocking the good road to the Palace.

God's state of mind and yours
can't be that far apart
whenever you are sifting through the rubble-
beyond all help
cherishing every shard as though
it were a diamond's diamond
in the sky or the raft of a
language that could not fail-

oh living this jagged way,
are you still there?
mending the broken crockery of worlds:

again again again

mary angela douglas 14 september 2009

*reference to Hans Christian Anderson's fairytale: The Emperor's Nightengale