a “sonnet”: to wed that light that is our means of seeing
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. And midsummer is the season for poems and songs and sonnets and verses and ballads anyway.
WHEN streaming in far-flung spaces
rays of sunlight fill our wakeful eyes
and we all behold, with upturned faces
the beginning of that triumphal rise
till the sunlight overflows the brim
of what our seeing can itself contain
elation runneth over till we swim
in oceans spilled out from this fountain
our minds submerge into this sea of light
and outward born we find ourselves on tides
from which we first emerged in gold and white
then from the husk of self we are unfurled
drawn by wafting thoughts beyond the world
this is the soul’s true end and cause of being
to wed that light that is its means of seeing
