Is It Thus

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Is It Thus

Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #314

A blob of goo fell from companion tree,
I thought he but sheds leaves or fruit,
Can he by other than eyes see
What ails my battered self and heart?

And then fell a gelatinous residue,
A little splotch followed by a feather,
I thought does it now grieve anew
For my old aches and fresh despair!

Then fell two pieces of a broken shell,
An egg of life that was beaked apart,
It was but cruel poetry of life’s circle,
Every hunger must by sacrifice be met.

Is it thus twixt Thou and I,
My being broken for Thy purpose on high?