O Mother

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O Mother

Sonnet

How many ages in the long cycles of time
Have we waited for the tread of Thy dawn,
Our meagre orbs gazing forlorn at horizon
For a sign of Thy coming O Mother Divine.

How many gestures conceived for Thy invocation,
The many paraphernalia of mind and limbs
Fashioning and refashioning call that climbs
To the hallowed end of Thy feet our destination.

How many lives lived from Thy womb issued
Growing and waiting through our many labours,
Aspiring and forging our dumb heart’s ardours
Hoping to enrich our soil for Thy golden seed.

O Mother, we are but infants, know not Thy ways,
Aid our stumbles to walk paths of Thy sublime grace.