Invocation

O roseats dawn of fresh recurrency
incarnate in the rays of poesy,
may your felicity of inspiration
incarnadine my waking invocation!

Yes, doubtless, endless is the sky of muse,
and I will light its vast expanse with song...

O music-star of my chanting firmament,
O mystic sun of my mind-universe,
O magic moon of my enchanted night,

I will now glisten with your starry spark,
I will now brighten with your sunny blaze,
I will now freshen with your moonlight glow:

For mine is the heart of your moonlight glow:
of your sun-blaze, the soul of your moon-glow...

I tune my song to the music of the spheres.
I count the stars, I talk to them......My count
is of no numerals, my talk is not
of words: in this star-vision of my muse
innumerability - ineffability
is the instinctivity of my love.

O skies of fancy and imagination,
O seas of thought and feeling and awareness,
I understand your far togetherness.

If not now, if not here, then somewhere, in
some future entity of deathless life,
this world of living-dying shall be reborn
as a universe of Beauty, Truth and Goodness....

Come, dumbness, talk!
Come, deafness, hark!
Come blindness, look!