Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #175
All claims are forfeit of this being’s use
By the ego’s I and it’s daily subterfuge,
Likewise all the rightful claims of nature’s
Have receded beyond the sense’s ridge.
I harbour in me man and demon and animal,
My bosom shelters the daemon and the djinn,
Great colloquies range in my mind’s hall,
My nerves quiver to all with sympathy benign.
All of me unhelpably yields to this metamorphosis,
Who or what shall emerge is hardly my remit,
Only to walk through stumbles without pause,
Sans desire, sans aim and sans thought.
Of Thy divine algorithm I am a humble variable,
My transformations a step of Thy calculus integral!