THE ROAD and the LADY

Straight and narrow, way I trod,
Just to bring me nearer God;
I have followed all these years.
Dust to dust, you weary tears.

Sanctioned by the heavens 'round,
I have gained the upper ground.
Woeful, winsome, whipping some,
Endless, endless, never done.

Greet me, morning. Greet me eve.
Be the rank upon my sleeve.
Ranging, reaching on before,
Just beside the Crystal shore.

You, companion, you, my aide;
Lead me to yon palisade.
Fetters forfeit, for the free.
Gather gorget, gather glee.

For once upon this road I trod
With not for company but God.
For once upon this road I dredged
And found the promise as was pledged.

And there upon the parapet,
The maiden I can not forget:
Maiden deep, and fortified,
Made in love, but terrified

To venture far beyond the moat;
To venture love, for she was smote
By sorcerers unknown to man,
And merely mortal still I am.

Surely from her portalled room
She knows my passing cloud of gloom,
For she has showered me with words
Of millstones, and of vulture birds.

Oh, road, so straight and narrow bent
Why was I so near her sent?
Who has sextant aimed and plied
To bring me near, but not beside?

Road, oh road, devoid, devoid;
You bankrupt road, what is the troy?
What is the currency this goddess speaks?
What brand of hyssop renders sweet?

Road, oh, barren, dusty gulch;
Where can I rest this weary hulk
Of unkempt words, of broken speech,
This heart, this bowl, that empty bleats?

Maiden, deep, and fortified,
Kestrel spirit in the sky,
Soaring, restless, on the wing,
I have no wish to be your king.

Road, oh road, I tarry now.
Beside this view I stand somehow
Besieged, distraught, at such a loss.
It scours me deep, this heavy cross.

Maiden, there, self-fortified,
Maiden, there, half terrified,
There upon the turret rim
Sounding out your battle hymns,

Goodness, mercy be your shield.
Trust no other. Heralds heed.
The road is narrow - too soon it ends.
The road and I are arid friends.

Warrior maid, robed em'rald green,
What manner visions fill your dreams?
Never have I seen like you,
Richly bless'd, but hiding, too.

Road, oh road, thou barren trough,
Yon sepulchre is not far off.
But she is fenced by hilted steel.
No sharper edges could I feel.

Copyright - Dave Martin 1994