Thy Inscrutability

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Thy Inscrutability

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #23

How many spectrums doth Thou afford me,
All the high low ranges of Thy harmony,
Such a suffering from the human range
Of betrayal and rebellion and woes strange.

What generosity is Thine of circumstance 
With no precursor nor precedence,
Such an acute ingenuity in each moment
That measures precise equanimity’s weight.

All my morrow’s and current ills
How easily yesterday’s excels,
Yet must I plod through Thy purpose
O enigmatic Will without regress.

What Thou willest unto me
Stands witness to Thy inscrutability.