Not For Me
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #347
Published on May 4, 2022
Not For Me
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #347
What twilight is this ruling through the day,
The sky all sullen and the mind near dead,
The winds of impulse enter not this fray
And all is as a motionless bog clogged.
A simple act is as a kingdom won
Against a drowse most calm sans malice,
Replayed the resistance of mute stone
That lay undisturbed in dullness for aeons?
What game is this if just to be
Is a puzzle and a travail most disabling,
To what end is all of yoga’s sophistry
If all things only lunge us into unbeing?
Oh, not for me Thy heroic save at the precipice,
I am content to be Thy dull apprentice.