a certain indefinite number of Petrarchan sonnets: №182

Ordinarily I don’t publish so much poetry at Theoria-press, and instead try to provide mostly essays with an odd poem or sonnet occasionally interspersed among them. But the Muse’s visits have outstripped my ability to keep pace with prose pieces so readers who prefer essays should peruse the archives of this site, which are replete with them. This is more-or-less an actual Petrarchan sonnet so it will not be preceded by my usual exculpatory disclaimer about having departed from the paradigmatic form.

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I CLIMB OUT THROUGH the portal of my eye
and quit the ward where I am wont to dwell
to sail on waves of light like caravel
my soul on airy ocean starts to fly
and look to upon this world from the sky
this world we think we know but don’t know well
every object is a beacon and a bell
horizon light, a chime to signify
this great beyond that wakes the heart’s desire
will make the buoyant Earth to rise like leaven
finally to be baked with holy fire 
as Wisdom raised her house on pillars seven
with hands of light that vernal winds inspire
the wind that fills the sails of life is Heaven

Photo by Thomas Vimare on Unsplash