Thy Generosity
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #321
Published on April 8, 2022
Thy Generosity
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #321
What maze is this that baffles me thus,
The hourly perplexity, the relief momentary,
Such grey care in these complexities
And methinks surely this bears Thy artistry.
Who knew Thy splendid hand ever could
Outmatch the brazenness of ignorance,
For how else could crumble my fortitude
That for long was close held in confidence.
A rust is upon my will’s erstwhile iron,
Time corrodes the being and appearance,
I am gnawed at all parts within,
Nothing is spared the sustained duress.
I now wonder why of all the heavens boundless
Thou art only in my hell-portion so generous?!