Our Births
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #339
Published on April 26, 2022
Our Births
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #339
An ember-sun through the horizon sinks,
Its splendour spent in the day’s labour,
For all the luminescent glory it sheds
Yet to some base bed doth disappear.
Is it thus with us, a birth at young dawn,
Tender years marking our early day,
Careworn years making our heavy noon,
And then a long decline in dusk’s way.
And night the absolver of hopes and dreams,
A faux death that heals our daily stain
Gathered in assiduous labour of the hours
Leaving for our keeping a patina of pain.
Is this all the purport of our lives rounds,
Our births a question that unanswered remains?