Church Hill Sonnets (VII of VII)

Sonnet LII (Church Hill VII)

Walking back beneath the bowed boughs above,

Climbing the hill I descended amazed,

Trying to escape the beauty I razed,

Hands torn from wielding this axe with no glove,

Seeking no leaf, nor return of my dove,

And finding no sign of God to be praised,

My mechanized body has become crazed,

Tired and defeated with no faith in love.

I drop the instrument guilty of death

That I swung to fell the tree of my life

That I climbed in search of my love, my wife,

For the axe is dull and I’m out of breath.

I can no longer tread this steep incline;

Whose are these steps that are making mine?