I Caught His Tread

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I Caught His Tread

Sonnet

Oh not in rhythmic breath, not in seated musing,
Not in deep contemplation, nor even meditation.
Oh not in eschewings, not in pure gathering,
Nor in cautious prescriptions is the formulation.

In remembered verses of oft murmuring lips
He is not, nor in haughty charity beguiling,
Or in blind busy works, or vague human tropes,
Are the keys to the doorless vistas enchanting.

In a gesture He is born, in a womb of feeling,
On a lay dreaming heart bursting as a flower,
Shy of company he abhors human accompanying,
Awaiting His moment in long eternity to appear.

And today, today I caught His tread, His snooping gaze
Sneaking into my heart and trapped for my sole embrace.