Chalice of Sorrows

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Chalice of Sorrows

Poem — An Invocation to the Master #283

Oh to what end is one man’s anguish,
One mere bird crying on life’s great tree
Halts not the sun nor does blemish
The pristine azure sprawled so free.

Oh what is one tear to time’s cycle
When empires are ground to dust
Like a worm by uncaring fate cruel,
Mere ballast for striding ages’ feet.

Oh what is one faint sigh of devotion,
A feather shed from a soul-bird overhead
Sinking slow through the empyrean
To the equal night’s welcoming bed.

Thus we bleed in this chalice of sorrows
Hoping to gain Thee for our tomorrows.
I would yet blend my throes to time
To lend Thy earth a poignancy sublime.