Thursday, October 16, 2014

Feast - a sonnet

Where nation, having fled tyranny's shore
Meets bitterness again in frozen form
To have a faith that still stirs, barely warm
And sees new worlds are humbled even more

Deeper than leaf-meal on the forest floor
Are secrets kept for those guardians of skin
Who have not peeled the forest back within
But share its shadows briefly before war

Announcing him who represents the least
When blood and gold the summer overtakes
The arrowed geese are shofared over lakes
And woods of mist, witnesses to the feast

The eyes of sky and hands of earth beneath
Hold mercy for each trembling, clinging leaf

October 14, 2014