If you, who are the emptiness of space
Fill all that is and was and will yet be,
And to beholders have a nameless face,
And see the future as a memory,
Why then do you watch sparrows' darting flight,
Or give a name to roses and to stars?
It seems one such as you, who fills the night
Would need no lowly souls, yet here we are.
You know the name of all my moods and fears
And all the inner longings of my heart.
You know the number of my hairs and years
And give thought for the whole and all the parts.
Such staggering minutiae fill your hand,
While galaxies are all yours to command.
postscript
I'm...embarking on a crown of sonnets for NaPoWriMo. Here's the first. I may give up and write whatever I want, though I won't give up on NaPo. We'll see if this works out...I might fail miserably.