To What End

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To What End

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #237

A new sun charts its course in me
Over the inner sky that slowly unveils,
Its patterns of movement I can’t see,
Yet the outer solar rounds it eclipses.

A new moon hath opened its face
And in my mind’s night it doth appear,
It shines as a muse luminous,
Silent, serene and loftily austere.

Strange tides rise and fall within,
Many sights and voices visit and go,
I seem poised on being’s margin,
To what end all moves I don’t yet know.

O Thou who doth helm my soul’s journeys
Keep me away from the inconsequential shores!