I desire to cast desire away, Having all that blamed respect Due my old age, hurled burning away Until I into the naked grass have crept. 5 I recall how some sage hermit spoke, Under his mountain drift lodged alone, Of how all changing waters must Whirl up to the stone. But I am wrecked by discourse 10 Of the sacred and profane; All love draws back to its source, Dry enmities remain.
From the collection "Unimagined Things"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.