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Poem of William HermannsP108
Trust
I lost you for awhile, became a human wreck with pains and burdened back. How wretched I could be to throw you overboard and serve another lord. Anxiety his name, my hope turned slowly grey; I chose my own decay. Oh grim self-adulation: I changed my childlike trust into despair and dust. Anxiety pricks flesh, at night sits on my chest and strangles breath and rest. This night when all was black — no light, I sank too deep — I saw you in my sleep. Your eyes gleamed from a painting, your lips moved but no sound. I threw myself to the ground. Too long you drank my cup, and now your cup I drink. Lord, lift me up, I sink. Too long I wooed my will and broke beneath its load. This night I felt your love; come, make me your abode. William Hermanns [P108] Note: P108. Trust; 1970's; upon looking at a copy of painting of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that hung in the poet's bedroom. |
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