Volume > Issue > The Will

The Will

A POEM

By William Dunn | March 1985

I’ve heard of those on milk and honey fed

But when I set about to eat

I found instead

Of heavenly bread

The food of earth surpassing sweet.

 

My hunger cried for pungent nourish­ment

Yet ached still more in satiety

For one more bite

Of tart delight

From dainties that beguiled the eye.

 

I wanted to sing praises to the Lamb

But in my heart the sound I heard

Was not I-Am

But chiseled sham,

A wrought idolatry of word.

 

Ambition radiated its own light

And pushed the rhymes away from You,

A lust for night

Safe from Your sight

But blazing in the world’s view.

 

So make my final songs, O, to ring true

That no broken distance lies

Between, Lord, You

And my own view

Until at evening singing dies.

 

©1985 New Oxford Review. All Rights Reserved.

Enjoyed reading this?

READ MORE! GET A FREE 7 DAY TRIAL

SUBSCRIBE TODAY

You May Also Enjoy

On the Trinity

When time was yet unmade nor seasons wrought,

Beginning’s birth unborn and unbegun,

Then God’s…

Parting

Let the air be taken from me;

Let no water touch my tongue.

Though my…

Who Taught You?

Butterfly, who taught you

Your exotic dance?

Who made your wings melodious?
What makes…