Our Parleys

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Our Parleys

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #44

For Thee I have erred a million lives,
And a million more Thou hath me saved,
And yet to Thy nod my soul still gives
An enflammed assent to what Thou designed.

That all is Thee and all is Thine
Is the considered view of the wise,
Yet to me Thy heights do not incline
And Thy depths in their grip enclose.

Our parleys are a musing of silences,
Of Thee upon a radiant timeless seat
And I hurtling upon time’s seas
Awaiting orientation to Thy feet.

Alter Thy ways for my assent grows old,
If Thou yet delayest my heart must be remade!