Feet To The Pavement

i am being led by the hand

so that i can see and understand

so that i can breathe in deeply

what others have done

those who have gone before me

to Rothko's Chapel and the streets

of Austin

to John Coltrane's A Love Supreme

and the blueprints of King David

relayed, baton-like, into the hands of King Solomon

to the sacrificial offering

to Johnny Cash's The Man Comes Around

to conceive how many times work is recycled

so that something short of perfection is made

to Makoto Fujimura's

Soliloquies and Four Holy Gospels

to this quest I place my feet to the pavement

to this way I rest my walk

to this giving place, that grows like bamboo, from

the knowing place inside my heart

to that sidewalk i am glued

but You, my love, must be

my only audience

for now, forever, far beyond the time being

to You, my love, i will grieve with woes

and suffer the most beautiful anxious part

to You, my love, i receive my imputed beliefs

that the shattered glass will, with gorgeous stains, carve

a life in me so diligent

carve a path by an immaterial Spirit so elusive

enabling my being

to run roughshod over minor importances

to the foot of a throne wide enough

to hold, at times, my ambivalence

and the certainty of God