The Pilgrimage, Book II: Part 11 / Phillip Neal Tippin
Knee-deep in fallen days,
I’ll wade my way home,
Each their hold has let, loosed
To windover bent forms
And nestle, nettled among
The points of Your crown.
(Christ the King of the Universe)
Blinking at the fire rush of light
Burning down brandished tinder aims
Came Meaning Maryfull.
But you can see how high I’ve climbed
But no higher
Yet this all may be a Hieroglyph
Yet of something higher.
I come to the conversation
Equipped only with enthusiasm