The Seeker
Hungering, thirsting, my stammering lips burst
With words floundering at the bridge of need
I stagger each lonely time away from the curst
The broken wings of long lament, the dry weed
Of discontent, the abused bitter penitent. And I
In circles return each time to voids where I cry.
I am the seeker of the Golden Fleece fated still
To suffer in the thrill of desire, I am voyager
For Holy Grail, proofing substance of that hill
Where hung the Creator and the good great giver
Bringing my bareness to be filled, and to know
What is this desire in me that must glow and glow?
There before you I know I am incomplete, rift
Of dominion and indwelling to the full extreme
I am the latent wonder, the bloom of broken gift
The child tossed about inside a wide sea of dream
And when I unite with her, beyond passion, we
As one receiving you, give us, Lord, thy eternity.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009
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