I Am Humbly With My Wood

I have taken up my Wood

Although I am not yet Cruciform,

I remain still, Hesitant,

And I am unready.

My Hill too, is unglossed.

An ordinary passage,

It is the wagfail trudge

Of a unkindled ruffian.

I trip on my lip and favour,

Stumbling and clutching,

Searching for straws,

All I reap is distress.

I elect to take the low Road.

This is the way of the low headed,

We of are of raised shoulders

But are of low neck.

On battlements

This is by way of

Keeping our head

By keeping our heads down.

I am not too be honoured

Or lauded or praised forth.

I am humbly with my Wood

Baring my given load.

(c) 2018 Christopher Thompson