Apt

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Apt

Sonnet

Of what use almanac recording every pattern
For this dawn is unlike any known sun.
A single day brings change of many years
And night prepares ground by new regressions.

I have purchased Thy growing semblance 
With ego’s coin mined from my being.
Here I found ripple-trace of other waves
Marking a pathway in dream by their sting.

This churn is hardly of light and dark,
For it is light and greater light at task.
Am spread wide and subtle within
This little body is hardly its outline.

Good and bad have both faded into distance
Only is apt that which arrives by Thy will-force.