Holy Hunger
(A Salute to Emily Dickinson)
I taste a liquor never brewed
In structured vats of men
Not all the tankards ever filled
Could reign this nectar in
Inebriate of Christ am I
His words I’m sipping from
Of life, of love, of power
Drunken worlds to overcome
When clergy slips and cannot rise
When churches close their door
I shall not move toward recant
I shall but drink the more
Till angels lay aside their song
Till saints the rainbows shun
This fervent tippler ever stays
to lean against the Son!
©cfa 7/4/2016
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