As, I Who Would Speak

if this life should be called my own,
if a man is but on an anvil, turned,
to true, to temper, to trust as the stone
beneath the loving father’s step has earned
the burdens of present and of future,
if the life of a man and of his god
are meant to find more than Earthly measure
and to know faithful is not faith facade,
As wise as some and less than many who
have ancients tolled to seek the knowledge
of men who in their best moments are true
to the glint of sun on the razor’s edge,
As I come to you, I could only speak
of the love we are put on Earth to seek.