17 Apr The Unutterable
Daybreak, the fires that I make all make a damning sign
My ‘oughts’ are mostly ‘ought nots’ but I realize that’s just fine
No crown of a King ever left a humbled heart, young and meek
I believe in silver-sleeved vintage that cleans hands and straightens souls
Gold combs of honey or poems that shear hills and kindle coals
A crown of a King that many know, few would want, still fewer seek
Hidden May-light and what I need to say right
Blameless be my walk in the shade of my Rock
Yet I cannot know its nature, its existence
Yet I push along the river toward its distance
There are many names I’d like to blame but I let the words escape
I turn the cheek
Daybreak, justice is awake and peers over garden-wall
So promise, after all this that in the dark of the fire-ball
The crown of the King lies beyond the other side of a holy week
I can say right everything from hidden May-light
If I still see the Rock then I know I can walk
Yet I cannot know its light, its glory-glow emittance
Yet I glide along the river with great assistance
There are many ways I’d like to pray but all the words escape
I cannot speak