Dave Bonta's "Quest" is a short, strange portrait of someone caught in their own uncertainty. The speaker calls himself a madman, fighting a war not against an outside enemy but against his own doubts. That sets up a feeling of restless, private struggle.
The images that follow don't quite explain themselves, which is part of the point. The door is already open, yet he knocks three or four times, as if he can't trust that he's allowed in, or can't believe the way is clear. Even his counting is unsure: "three or four." Then he talks alone at church, where he might expect an answer or at least a listener, and finds only his own voice. The last line compares this to "a letter to a match," something sent to a thing that will burn it up, or perhaps a message that can never be read.
The mood is anxious, lonely, and a little darkly funny. The quest of the title seems to be a search for faith or certainty, but the poem suggests it is made of hesitation more than progress.