Habit

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Habit

Sonnet

How dost thou escape every method,
Know through ages by the written word?
Word, index of thoughts well pursued,
Only a relentless chase has yet ensued!

All long training of the knowing mind,
Its intricate web can’t yet thee find.
And heart, that reluctant collaborator,
Did heave and sigh in high ardour!

Works, O works of some passable mint,
Produced in earnest and patient dint.
Will employed like a half-sure dice-roll,
An archaic device with occasional control.

All failed, the body picked now the gambit,
A new culmination births by its daily habit.