Fifth Week of Lent
I desire to do, but I fail to do:
rough wind tangles the sail,
the kernel hides in tough shell,
the poem spoils to doggerel.
I desire to do, but I fail to do,
true heart is veiled by lie.
New grace needs old self to die,
nailed on rough wood, crucified.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
5 comments:
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This is such a beautiful poem, so much so, I wanted to post a comment-but when I thought about what I might write, all I could think of sounded trite, and what happened was that I wrote a (lesser) poem in response (you will see its serious faults, but I write it here as a sign of the resonance of your poem): I desire to do, but fail to do. Passions pin true heart to danger, akin not to chess but bad wager, self is an unruly stranger. I desire to do, but fail to do. Heart beats, for love is thirsty, as ego blinds boundless mercy, transposed stakes get the best of me. I desire to do, but fail to do. Through Him only am I reprieved, impaling wrongs, done or recieved, guile, not warmth, will be bereaved.
ReplyDeleteI like it -- especially the 'Passions' stanza. And poems are always the best comments on poems.
ReplyDeleteI really liked both these poems! Gave me a bit of hope and a push to continue for this coming week! (Sorry I am one of those lame commentators.)
ReplyDeleteNot one poetic gene in my genome, but I LOVE reading poetry of every kind: poem drafts and poetic comments, even some doggerel. So thank you both for sharing your superb ones..
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading them!
ReplyDelete