Thy Ambit
Published on February 25, 2023
Thy Ambit
Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #53
Sri Aurobindo, courtesy Midjourney
Does it behoove Thee O King
To amass troops of drowse and inability
Upon borders and ramparts of being
Already taken for Thee by soul treachery?
Whose blackened tongue doth whisper
Of deviant aims in this emptied self,
What rebellious fire can here conspire
Where all is ruin and ash enough?
Deem us not of any worthy stature
Creeping as we are from clay and clod,
Borne in this sheath fragile we labour
To earn some shadow merit for Thy nod.
By whose dictate we linger here we don’t know,
But it’s in Thy ambit O King to redeem us now.