Figment

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Figment

Poem — An Invocation To The Master #356

From the day’s hours I do gather 
Meaning like a bee does honey,
For this measly drop I do labour
Hour upon hour relentlessly.

Doth my soul distil my deeds
And bring Thee a residue fine,
My acts be unto the cosmos
A minuscule motif of Thy plan?

I know not if am not or even if I am,
For all is only as a figment of Thy dream.