Evensong

Sonnet — An Invocation To The Master #364

I mused for Thee an evensong to tame
The harsh austerity of the severe noon,
Draped in verses of a vermillion rhyme
And swaying stately along a setting sun.

A stage I fashion upon the horizon line,
The wonder border cleaving the hemisphere,
A ripened day and a night new-born
Are voices assembled on the stage there.

On vast of the skies the far-flung choir
For a million-voiced chorus of harmonies,
The gods of harp and lute there gather
To accompany the evensong with melodies.

At a beginning moment my evensong for Thee sounds
And a worshipful mood now seizes all the universe.

More from Inevitable Word

Inevitable Word is a pedestal for the newer forms of Poetry, Prose and literary Criticism. It is an attempt to bring into every manuscript the inevitable word and expression of the Spirit, as may be found in the Vedas, and more prominently, in the works of Sri Aurobindo.