There I Made My Church Poem by Kurt Philip Behm
There I Made My Church
Flying above the torment and fray,
the blood drops from my wings
The scars I carry to then remind,
the true cost delivery brings
The clouds incumbent upon my soul,
their cover not to hide
But frame a backdrop of life ahead,
where on Angels wings I ride
My time below and my time above,
both present in me now
As the essence calls from which I'm made,
to return and shout aloud…
"I travelled the earth both far and wide,
its truth did I then search
But wisdom came to me instead,
—and there I made my church"
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February,2017)
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4/25/2024 11:41:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Quite profound. A personal, intimate religion at the end of an arduous quest, as opposed to a standard, wholesale offer, more often than not imposed. Not demeaning tha latter, though, since it's got an important place in the world, but poets tend to arrive at the former, sooner or later.