Trail’s End

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Trail’s End

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #40

In Thy pursuit I have spent my valour
Sifting cues from an inarticulate night,
Fruitless years of this long endeavour
Now at last bears a strange fruit.

I am settled on Thy silences unending
For am emptied of words just as Thee,
My silence and Thine could be meeting
For a wordless occult colloquy.

My demands have fled and knowings read,
Thy silence all wisdom outweighs,
I uprooted all passions that were bred,
A long gestation’s change is all this.

At the trail’s end when we must meet,
Grant O Sire a repose by Thy feet.