oh well up within, water of life
most clear clean and wholly holy
flood with praise
these hours and twisted, creviced ways
wherin i crawl and starve.
o jesus lord,
deliver me; fire rims the world,
my tongue
a bridge across which march most
vile and dark-inflicting thoughts,
they storm and o forgive, they conquer where
my best battallion ought to stand in trust,
unrusted swords unsheathed and sharp; instead
the scorching ramparts see
my weak and weary watchman faint in vain
awaiting orders to enthrall and sieze those uncaptivated
mutineers;
curses and raptures from one source?
My brackish self-same seamarsh claims descent
from yonder peak, from your most high headspring?
Coursing and urging, jumbled like an army disarrayed for war,
from the splendor of thy holy hoard, shall i plunder and abuse
that which blushes Spirit and glistens with anointing?
Come now, with torrent and blaze of rain, take me
by surprise with thy upwelling Truth,
and sanctify again upon my lips
the majesty of the incarnate WORD, flood both bed and bank with grace.
another Ruth I bind the sheaves, gleanings from your salty lexicon;
My grapevine shall not bear figs, nor stray its tendrils into other orchards.
My Lord, my teeth tremble at the syllables they cage. My Lord,
this clay jar shall break and spill out nothing,
nothing but immortal victory.
I love you.
I shall learn by heart none but Cross & Christ.
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