Think, willed by whom ye wield thy will

Ye miss O thou man in mindless vain mirth That every shade comes from His rainbow's range, Ye no more than copy Nature, no change, The picture ye paint scarce depicts thy worth, Nor music—when His notes ye rearrange, The mind ye use bestowed hast He at birth, Not a miracle art thou ‘pon this Earth, A smart machine at best and scarce so strange. Take heed, should ye hail thy highly hung head? Feel not so proud on thy mind's pompous powers, Ye might have made some tallest of towers, Not one vies with what Creation has made. Get down from thy vainest pedestal, then, Think, willed by whom ye wield thy will O man. ___________________________ Sonnet | 01.08.2008 | Poet’s note: The last line of this sonnet reflects what is said in the very first verse of Kena Upanishad: Kena eam patati pream manah… Willed and directed by whom is thy mind enlightened?