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Memories of the Kingdom

In the Church of Ordinary Miracles

Finding Religion in Sperryville

Theater of Shadow and Light

Sapphire Birth

Web of Infinity

Voices from a Choir of Stars

Traveler in the Unseen

Into the Silence

A Soft Ascent

Through a Sacred Forest

Innocent Questions

On the Bridge After a Storm

The Sound of Creation

Your Song in the Ivy

Universe Within

New Empire

Another Afterlife

Where the Wind Lives

A Council of Stars

Another Kind of Prayer

Indigo Fire

Last Inch of Flame

Blue Home

Sacred Crone

What the Deer Understands

Some Water Lilies I Used to Know

Gates of Orion

Requiem for Yesterday

In a Moment of Understanding

April Snow

Symphony in Sable

Justice Denied

Gossip

Graduation Day

Fire from a Distant Life

Follow the Birdsong

Frozen Retreat

Welcome Jack

Remembering Spring

A River's Chant

Shadows of December

Please Live

Unholy Love

A Silent Knowing

Morning Candle

A Multitude of One

Love is Now

Follow the Birdsong 2

Archibald

Night of the Broken Glass, Revisited

Someone Else's Paradise

Canvas of Gold (A Tribute to Poetry Sites)

On the Edge of a Dead World

A Very Late Apology

It Is You

When Two Hearts beat as One

THE WOLD LIKE THIS!

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

Forbidden

Visions Released

For our child

Dance Upon Shadows

 

A Very Late Apology


For my daughter


I walk alone where
you used to play,
the oaks more like
a chapel
where the last light
has set the saints
and apostles on fire,
the way your mind used
to dazzle the ghosts
of the forest.

Now they are wrung out
souls like knotted words
and rough-hewn excuses,
lost in flames so
beautiful they sting my
eyes and drain
the air around me.

And finally I understand
that yesterday was your
every chance and
my everything.

Angels don't fall to
earth,
they awaken in the arms
of sleepless, broken
mothers;
they are giants inside
restless seeds, holding
all the towering hopes
of a hundred years
or more

and I was the keeper of
your world.

In the hungry winds
of spring,
when our real lives
are just beginning,
it was easy to believe
you would always be
laughing here,

where love was as soft
as luna moths when they
were paper dancers in the
glassy nights you feared.

Now I wear your pain like
this nightfall
wears sorcery
and never sheds
its blazing peril,
only draws us in to
want it more.

If I had only known then
that now is all there is.

Falling forever in the
stars you used to study,
unquestioning stars you
knew well as you reached
for a stripped down, one note,
believable truth,

a place so far from here

like the dream of
an easy life
that passed into winters
and clean linen summers,
a dream that brushed against
your skin like secrets,

always a part of the night,
part of the cricket song
we come to know as the
heartbeat of darkness,
just outside the gates
of sunrise.

After the journey,
perhaps, return to
the beginning and find
what was perfect there:
the moment we greeted the
world together
and how, to one
student of humility
you were the universe,

and now, in this torn
and churning night, for
everything I didn't do
when I had everything,
I finally say:
I'm sorry.


Patricia Joan Jones





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