Trial and Triumph

Hazy clouds: a rouse
to dull my eyes,
a test, for within,
the sun has yet to rise.

Disdaining the will,
in opposition to my heart.
To reach a goal,
from flesh we must part.

And to myself
I endeavor to go,
and turn myself,
toward light to grow.

In waking and in dying,
in love, always crying,
The heart's wounds are worse,
in submission than in trying.

Upon my will
I fashion my desire.
I toil and tame
my heart, my fire.