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On A Change Of Focus
So many times, I have tried, Lord, and failed:
I feel as thought my soul has been impaled
on rusted spikes filthy with tetany.
During my random browsing through this day
(despite the world's inchoate interference),
You pointed me back to another way
to which I need to give devout adherence:
to do so is the change for which I pray---
so that the main use of my poetry
(and guided not by my flesh, but my soul)
is to suggest a way accessible
into that most First Century---
beginning in Seventy-one B.C.
and forward, then, to Ninety-six A.D.
Starward
[jlc]
