Three Sonnets on Love

How nearly, dearly, joy and grief align

Mystic alloy of pain and ecstasy

A synchronized employment, pure, divine

Love; comfort and heart-wrenching agony

The droids of lust will never know its kiss

Infatuation cannot grasp its role

Of fingertips evoking static-bliss

While rending deep the crypts of heart and soul

And oft, we soldiers of languid lament

Are startled by its potent catalyst

Candid compulsion of unrivaled strength

A hurricane born from the purple mist

Gently and graciously patience extols

Love’s miracle of fingertips and souls

***

Love, wherefore art thou free to all and yet

We choose to spurn your pearl for painted dirt?

Self is master of ‘forgive but not forget’

Clinging to shards of misgiving and hurt

Love; nothing exceeds your hierarchy

Though lesser ranks may seek to dethrone you

You never fail; we fail you brazenly

But you remain faultless to see us through

The echelons of mortal-might deflate

Our vengeful scrimmages of trodden dust

Grow weary; the craftsmen of cruel hate

Will never satisfy the lords of lust

But Love, in spite of promises of pain

Inspires us to love and love again

***

Love’s tender truth drifts on Time’s moment-tide

Evoking thoughts of wordless wonderment

The windswept centuries all have relied

On thee, oh Love of God-breathed filament

As tarnished evidences testify

That love and only love will never fail

And yet its quiet witness we defy

To test anew its gracious, Holy Grail

Oh Love, you whisper while the demons scream

And comfort even in your mourning hour

Your song, a soft and bittersweet requiem

Blood-notes of rare, redeeming pow’r

Oh love, how keen the kindness you extol

Redemption’s kiss reaches within the soul

© Janet Martin

 Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?

Kahlil Gibran  on Joy and Sorrow