Art of Worship
Even if this act is worship
I wander outside all bounds
Senseless of fences, I find my way alone
By touch and feel,
By intuition,
By exploration
And new, diverse, creative ways
Yet with each step I beg the question:
Outside all structured liturgy
Away from wisdom, and all guidance
Except for what seems right to me . . .
Am I soaring, or lying lazy,
Languishing on trodden ground
While seven times the former trouble
Comes bursting through an empty door?