Sonnet — An Invocation To The Master #357
Oh what is it that appears to the gaze now
From these flurry of forms a new outline,
Like from a worn-out tome appears slow
Hidden letterings of symbols that shine.
A breath of some revealing thought arrives,
A wave of shivers is upon the veil of form,
A glimpse is caught of undying moods
Like an empty shore’s lone defiant bloom.
The piled up hours turn a shrine fashioned
With an altar high and a daemon unseen,
With deep humility is the Presence worshipped
By a silent song and a wordless hymn.
O Beauty beyond our earthly mar,
Come unto us from Thy heavens afar!