O Lord

Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #33

My enamoured thought is Thou,
Leaping out of a sacred fire
Into joy and mirth of Thy love,
As if a child reaching for its beloved Mother.

My impassioned heart is Thy temple,
Built of Thy own edifice lent out:
It is marbled and rubied of Thy smile,
A rapture-sanctum of Thy ineffable light.

My body is Thy playground,
A battlefield of many woes,
But in it Thy dreams wander bare and nude,
As all my battle and struggle melt in Thy bliss.

O Lord, my whole self is Thou;
I am Thy embodied infinity in Matter’s deep marrow.