a certain indefinite number of Petrarchan “sonnets”: №141

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. Also, I should acknowledge that the formal aspect of this “Petrarchan sonnet” is liberally conceived so it’s unnecessary to alert me that at “Petrarchan sonnet” with 16 lines and an unorthodox rhyme-scheme is like a quartet with 5 members, though reproof is always welcome from anyone who feels so moved.

---

WE TRACE fresh veins of gold across the sky
to mine the heavens for their frozen light 
we draw new waters from the basin of the night 
that brims with tears that fall when spirits cry
who spoke to human hearts which don’t reply
we quaff the wine of dreams in sot delight
which pours in beaded draughts from Heaven’s height
like beams of starlight from a Seraph’s eye
what change must come on me, what will it take
to kindle sparks of light within my heart
the tongues of flame that lick my soul awake
from sleep of aeons, leap up with a start
the seeds of slumber from her eyes to shake
her cosmic purpose once again impart?
then as the World’s foundations groan and quake
in its salvation she will play her part

Photo by Thom Schneider on Unsplash