It’s that time of year. It’s that time of year when students run to computer labs with thumb-drives in hand, prepared to print enough final class papers to justify milling a whole rain-forest to provide the paper. I turned in one today (a paper, that is, not a rain-forest), and there are more to come.
Our final project for poetry writing class is to write something of our choice, picking from any of the forms we’ve studied this semester. I chose a sonnet–because I like sonnets.
So here is my sonnet.
Like rain after infernal draught, you came
To flood my heart with love it had not known.
As grass and tress left withered, cracked, and lame
Respond to rain, my soul’s blushed green, and grown.
I am revived beneath your gentle rain
That fills the cracks forged in the summer’s heat.
Silently the drops dispel the pain
That dried my soul—a wasteland of defeat.
Now the dry, infertile ground expands,
With fragile shoots uncurling from the earth;
Here they’ll flourish: in the safety of your hands—
For you are kind, and conscious of their worth.
Your love brought living things back to this place
As rain replaced the teardrops on my face.