Sonnets of Surrender

Now bud has borne its bloom, now bloom its vim

The touch of time’s caress is keen and sure

Now splurge of leaf is severed from the limb

And none can its recovery procure

From stricken stem a host like angels wings

As miracle of seed its ranks deploys

Now, even in death’s hour nature sings

Where hope is scattered beneath dulled decoys

…we trample its seasoned dust-to-dust path

Always twixt Imminence and Aftermath

Now glory-hallelujah sings the morn

And we are caught up in its gray-gold stride

Where soon what was abounding and new-born

Is weary-worn on dusklorn countryside  

And we are weary too, blue interjects

And deepens ‘til the breadth of sight is still

The Crossing-guard where night-day intersects

Is kind and tucks the skyline to the hill

…we watch with what remains; a wait-trust sprawl

Akin to earth where autumn flung its shawl

Now is a very present Circumstance

It does not mitigate or disappear

But offers up a virgin second chance

Before it resides in Past’s belvedere

Like bud that bore its bloom and bloom its gem

Like day that wore its allotment of light

Like earth that surrenders its diadem

To the Ruler of seasons, day and night

…like we who live in slow surrender too

Yet push against its deepening of blue

© Janet Martin