Mysteries

(For Paul I)

by Douglas Smith / June 17th, 2018

Serene in a huddle of green-gowned angels
the surgeon plants a silver ring deep
in my heart. To whom was I betrothed
while veiled in dreamless anaesthesia?

Beneath the boulder a loathsome creature lurks.
Circle the rock with both arms,
press it to your chest,
make your legs do the lifting.

A body other than earth shadows the moon.
Void of prints the cave is mine to explore.
Bats smudge the walls with evocative guano.
From his tomb Christ emerges, squinting

Douglas Smith, formerly a teacher of Anthropology at York University, is a homeopathic physician.and author of several books on alternative medicine. It is claimed (although Dissident Voice has no proof of this!) that Doug and his partner grow the best garlic in Haliburton County. Read other articles by Douglas.

This article was posted on Sunday, June 17th, 2018 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.