(A Birthday Sonnet)
One hundred forty-first day of the year;
Unaware the world in its randomness,
Born a soul to my heart would be dear
For all her genuine light and genius.
Though years ahead is she of my becoming,
What fortune have I received to find her!
You whose presence wonder and happiness brings
To me and all whose love for you I share.
May this revolution bring your desires,
And in this lifetime your dreams in waking.
May you come out a gem in life’s fires;
Your beloved stay in your safekeeping.
‘Tis a day to celebrate of all days
For the world has been made a better place.
Then came the day I decided I would
Stop writing of drunken love and passions;
Then came the day I learned that I could
Trade the high of infatuation
For a union of the placid kind
Not the brief intense turbulent affair,
Not the addiction of the frantic mind
But a lasting connection that dares
Let go of such a chase life-derailing
And choose content in love’s sweet silence
Over that which burns in flames but passing
For there is better joy in its absence.
So do I throw my foolish fancies away
And set my heart to see that fateful day.
March 23, 2021
I’m writing this as my sixth sonnet because I decided to scrap some of the earlier ones. I’m allowed to do that, right? Anyway, it’s my body of work so I guess I can.