The Puzzle

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The Puzzle

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #187

I put together the puzzle of my scattered parts,
Piece by piece I am found in idea and feeling
And the outline of my aim and purpose emerges
Like a patient artist by slow strokes his painting.

In sleep proceeds the work hardly interrupted,
An occult hand keeps at its undying task,
In waking it lends me the share apportioned 
By deliberate will and action to take.

I see now the many powers that hold my shape
Of Nature and self and God immanent,
Hence the exaggerated claims I must drop
Of ego’s agency and desire for action’s fruit.

All is a miracle here and all I must hope and dare,
All as a miracle unfolds because Thou art here!