Summary

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Summary

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #49

The ego’s vast estates have dwindled
To a meagre plot of the body’s circle,
All terrains the mind encircled
Diminished to unconscious thought’s interval.

Each circumstance is as a womb new
That births in me a fresh aspect,
I grapple events as an infant sans clue,
I await ever the impulse of higher instinct.

My human mould on another line proceeds
Absolved from norm and precedence,
Periods of cluelessness and utter lucidities
Are now my food and sustenance.

Such are my days in summary,
Placed for Thy review O Eternity.