Enliven

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Enliven

Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #315

Oh deem me not superficially presumptuous 
For I but exercise a common fool’s privilege
To hector Thee who art in wisdom boundless 
Even when Thou wert of human heritage.

Mine the trepidant feet that by Thy chamber
Vacillates driven by an inconstant will,
Mine the missives that lie piled by Thy door,
For though aggrieved I venerate Thee still.

Oh disarm Thyself of that too lofty strain
For am yet counted amongst the ignoble
Bearing still the human scar and stain,
Only meet me in Thy least moment’s interval.

O Thou who doth scatter stars in space like pollen,
Turn a little of Thy breath hither and my life enliven.