Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

Byzantine Painting of the Last Supper


                                           Fiercely focused, aimed from eternity,

He set his face like flint toward the Cross.

Nothing could turn Him back: the Tempter’s gloss,

The wrath of Herod, raging of the sea,

Well-meant advice from friends who could not see.

It wasn’t that He failed to count the cost;

No one knew better how to weigh the loss,

But He maintained His gaze on you and me.


A wicked generation seeks a sign;

It’s different when you’re given one instead.

All the meaning centers, every line,

Himself, His sacrifice, and all He said:

Fiercely focused, still we sip the wine;

Aimed for eternity, we eat the bread.

The Word

Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.  And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, from Square Halo Books!

Donald T. Williams, PhD

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