Joys of the sonnet

       Feb. 13, '13


                                             Peering Into the Future

                                   Whenever  I think of the thin line
                                    Of infinite light drawn into the void
                                    Before Creation, I have to smile -
                                    It's so visually disposed - so sadly flawed.
                                    The same holds true for the worlds
                                    Depending from the line at their inception -
                                    Verily my mind is a cave that's sealed -
                                    Only material images enter my conception.
                                    Peering through a crevice, however -
                                    I make out a light barely perceivable.
                                    It comes and goes - at times irretrievable,
                                    Destined to shine, I'm told, forever.
                                    Imagine seeing the energy sustaining a table!
                                    I've tried but, of course, am unable.

   
Feb. 21, '13
                              
                 
                         
                                                         A Great Deliverance    

                                     All the streets I have ever tread
                                     Converge at this shore where I am standing -
                                     The waters will part at instant commanding -
                                     A radically new place lies straight ahead.
                                     Who could know I would have to contend
                                     With such rising waves relentlessy tossing?
                                      Fortunate was I to solely depend
                                      On the One who achieved my miniature crossing.
                                      Almost - almost the passage is made -
                                      But where are the words of my song at the sea?
                                      Must I hold myself back and patiently wait
                                      Till the exact moment prepared for me?
                                      Wait! wait! - no song of salvation was ever sung
                                      Before a great deliverance had actually begun.


Feb. 28, '13


                                                         Joys of the Sonnet


                                       The sonnet is a form most satisfying -
                                       It is to the soul artistic
                                       What a molecule is to the scientific -
                                       Design, in art or nature, is highly gratifying.
                                       Note its prescribed parameter:
                                       The rhyme scheme traditionally Shakespearean,
                                       The rhythm iambic pentameter,
                                       Study there its pattern Petrarchean.
                                       Easy to see how words in formal measure -
                                       And rigidly formal at that -
                                       Are essential to poetic pleasure -
                                       The ear is the only true judge of this fact.
                                       So long live the sonnet! - but let it be noted -
                                       Greatest joy belongs to the one who wrote it.