Pilgrimage
The path to you is one of yearning, planned
By God, though I’m not sure if it’s the path,
Or you, or yearning that He schemed. He banned
The hope of turning, whether in iron wrath
Or softer metal (mercy) — silver, gold
Or platinum. He hasn’t said. I stalk
Along like Christian. Temptations unfold
On every side. I ignore them. I walk
With blinkers like a stallion, wishing for
A lion. I do not need Faithful. He
Is part of me, no separate friend, but core
Of this rue quest construed from misery.
..You are Celestial City’s architrave,
The destination I can only crave.