Jan 292015
In kneeling sands my whittled savior
Gives first his whole love and then his whole life:
Clicker of minutes in a clockless land
Of blood the red of eyes the whites
Of day the turning touch of night
Of fever the calming palming hand
Of marriage the untempted wife
Of giving the savoir faire of favor.

This best of whoever I was and am
This holy most carved from my sheepish least
This model who troubles my conscience the most
Who sees most within where I wander most lost
Who knows when I don't what I most might be
Who throws my bevy of devils into the sea--
Of love the whole shadow and holy ghost
Pinnacle of paragons, the one man undamned,

To you I kneeled once among seagulls and doves;
To you I kneel still, invulnerably loved.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.