All The Mar
Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #109
Published on August 25, 2021
All The Mar
Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #109
Ah, what lack is in Thy repertoire of infinity
Like a black spot mars the glorious sun-face,
For all Thy marvellous sublime subtlety
Harbouring on Thy edifice this dull dross.
What reluctance pauses Thy hallowed lips
That once uttered the all-creative Word,
Now it’s pressed tight by an adamance
Pretending my pleas were never heard!
What makes Thee pitch Thy vastness
Against my insignificant meagre speck,
How will I ever outwit Thy immanence
When all of me is of Thy sole make!
Ah, but it now belated dawns on me,
It is I who is all the mar that is in Thee!