O Bliss Herder
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #308
Published on March 26, 2022
O Bliss Herder
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #308
Unpeopled are the hundred roads of desire,
Silent the hundred chambers of longing,
Mute are all the sweet voices of joy’s choir,
Only are heard the murmurs of heart’s pining.
The pages of days remain blank, unwritten,
No script of ease glides upon the lines,
No happy scrawl of a mirth unbidden,
Only an empty page, dull, grey and lifeless.
A procession of waning moons silently pass
Mourning the passing of love’s true song,
The mind benumbed at the widowed muses
Rues for happy songs that never shall be sung.
O Thou of Brindavan, O Bliss Herder,
Shepherd my soul at least to one happy pasture.