A Wild Man's Prayer Poem by Antonio A. Apostol, Jr.

Ah, the book
a chronicle of man's six millennial dark journey,
of his torturous trek
through the scorching desert of sweat and blood and tears,
of God's two houses,
of bread and corn and oil and grapes and milk and honey
overflowing on their table
and their resultant hubris,
of their stony refusal to give ear to their father's call,
of people not his,
wild people many of whom heard and heeded
and became, too, the bricks of his new temple.
Ah, man, search its coded pages.
Descry the emerging shape on Theos' and Logos'
trestle board: "Let melt man in the crucible
and pour him out a pure gold into our mold."
Man? God?
Ah, Lord, I pray, don't snuff off the candle yet.
Give me the chance
to drink in your cup, to feed in your mount.