The Poetic Soul
Ah! The poetic soul –
indeed a beloved symphony
to image and caress;
a painting only a master's
hand could render, thus
profess, each stroke the
hand of angels and gods
at their worst and best
the poetic soul a vessel,
a Eucharist the poet alone
can fully address, approach
the sacred wine within,
tilt such divine vessel toward
his trembling lips, with words
overflowing – and loudly
confess: I am guilty! Unrepentant!
And the world can have
your redeemable rest....
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