Fourth Week of Lent
In an errant world, on an errant way,
I wander lost through night and day;
with wanderlust I err the more
as I seek the light of the eastern shore.
Where the will-o-wisp by the willows dance
I stray, return by the merest chance,
and the thing I will never what I chase:
for wisps of nought I lose my place.
Yet the time will come at the journey's end
when I will be true friend to friend,
when no siren-call will lure my course,
and every road draw me to source.
