I have searched the homely grail
At work, on the summit of Pike’s Peak,
And in the bills and ads in the mail.
I can only guess at what I seek,
Except that it is lovely and wild.
(Oh, if only I could steal a peek.)
I’ve searched since I was a child,
Less curious than hungry, grasping,
Nothing inside me calm or mild.
The wanting is the asp’s sting,
A surrender to the jailor’s flail.
I cling to the preying roc’s wing,
Without knowing how to fail.
