A Reverie

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A Reverie

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #11

Once I paused long in a reverie’s space
And found there a crowded scene silent,
Faces familiar and unfamiliar from ages
Posed to intruder me queries pertinent.

The builder came, “Behold in adamant stone
The magnificent lines my chisel spelt,
As lip and flower and breast and bone.
In what deed thine He finds any merit?”

Then the thinker, “Mine is philosophy, science
To bend nature to humankind, and great
Utility for arms of men and women’s limbs.
But in thee not a single thought is complete!”

The poet with smile, “Fair countries, fairer
Speech have I cast from human lips,
My lightning is brightest, storms stronger,
With a maiden’s smile I could dim the gods!”

The warrior gruff, “What use all these words
That pass and die on winds like a flower,
Mine is war by which the world endures,
I bring might of steel to enshrine power!”

The pleased lover, “In one breast’s treasure
I have invested all the ardours mine,
Content ever with one body’s pleasure
I spend my days sipping her vision’s wine!”

The silent sage, “Senses I have reigned firm,
The mind like a harp hundred stringed
Sings for my soul that on ether doth swim.
All mine virtues the silent gods affirmed.”

I grew mute in this reverie’s assault,
By the old souls that roamed ages of yore,
I scoured vain for other than human fault,
A scrap of legacy or a fragment for lore.

Ere long I replied, “O hallowed ranks
That outshine our familiar sun in fame,
Am but a pebble He picked from time’s waves,
No feature marks me who am without name.

A short meagre lease of nature lends
A frugal leash of life and mind,
Perchance by me He comprehends
The limit of dullness in my clod.

Neither spiring monument nor austere philosophy,
Neither sweet sonnet nor victory’s banner,
Neither content heart nor soul alchemy,
Have I who am but nature’s pauper.

I am but His vassal’s vassal,
A single dew drop of His ocean,
In me is no miracle nor spectacle,
All of me is surrender and submission.

I have been an arrow He fires,
The hard axe that mightily doth sever,
I have been His shield that bars
The ills that deflect His charter.

I am boy and girl, man and woman,
As each I have played the part,
I have been the god and the titan,
In all I have essayed His divine art.

As worm or clod or god be my measure,
All I become at my Lord and Beloved’s pleasure.”