A Sonnet of Sonnets

I

Love—this is again, on my mind and in the air.
On this subject, we spend time—much of our lives
Wanting to know that someone does continually care.
Hearts won hold cherishable feelings immortalized

That which then begins as a waltz—this soul’s soliloquy.—
To ramble on through the passages of,
With warm wishings held, holding dear and sweet
Long yet still—vacancy that is reserved for love.

Nothing else remains for this hallowed place,
But for it to be filled, so we will continue on.
For it, words were summoned to fill this space;
And I know it’s arrival will now be soon, will not be long.

To find love, still, is never enough—not quite
As two souls, though separate, hope to unite.


II

Dreams—only imaginings it would seem—
These fantasies that someone came to conceive,
All the while, never to realize these imaginings.
If life be simply but a reverie, dream on—believe.

All we would think is real and created by man—
Was brought to being, first, in the minds of men
Before they came to be molded by hand.
To muffle one thought would be an omission;

Robbing vision from the future progresses:
Stealing steps toward that dear—yet not so near—
Dream. See beyond what we are—these five senses,
And if life truely be an illusion then imaginings are real.

Was ever there once a person without a “utopian-life?”—
If so, did they not substitute their need with some causesless strife?


III

Friends—fair them well and they’ll always be there;
Standing strong—by our side when we have weakened.
But are they there only for themselves: out of fear:
Do they secretly commit the highest of treasons?

Betraying those unwise to their hidden fact?
No, nothing is so suspicious, I tend to say;
The faithful bonds made are something much more than that—
The same pure substance that brings us to where we’re today.

Much more than what the present word tends to imply—
It’s meaning is beyond barriers and seals.
Anything less than that makes apparent unions a lie
When through all those truer ones would remain yet and still—

A love that compels such vigilant light;
To have, even throughout life’s constant plight.


IV

Reality—what could be harsh on minds,
With eyes wide open, could bring you new life—new light.
When escape is done, it seems a matter that time
Catches you off guard. By breaking through the dark of night,

This, we must confront—now, not later then.
In vain are hopes to forget depts left unpaid—
With every expenditure there is a reprimand.
Then to our souls’ relief, to worry, rest is laid—

The spirit’s currency is here where I sooth a say.
It should be obvious what should be done.
Truth? It may interpret in many ways;
What we give we receive, though not always directly or in person.

So, for a time we might escape others’ strife,
Still, the line you cast runs back to you, throughout this life.


V

Desires—the things we value above the rest—
That which we are wanting; ever longing for.
To obtain these objects we’re put to the test,
This, for valued keeps long revered in their lure.

But what of worth when it does not match the cost?
All in all, we sell our selves part by part.
Is this, to be given for a treasure lost;
Some imagined account of mankind’s resort;

A self appointed importance or worth.
All need not be as such and heard from merely me—
As if the pencilings of a resentful dearth—
You, I’m sure, have eyes for things I can not see.

Cherish what is of worth to you or I—
With eyes unblemished, to yourself, you can not lie.


VI

Nature—mother to all, source of what has been brought.
What ever is to come is just as subjected.
To see the sunrise is like as if to face God;
The wind so very often blows as if all were perfected.

From Earth: our form; its hand: our mold.—
So being a part of all, in directions we take.
Along spring trails—where the essence is to unfold—
Are far greater things than what man can create.

In the extent of its glory, who could even ponder
The surreal scene within the ocean view,
So that in a child’s eyes we see such wonder?—
Or wood lines, with your gaze cast; piercing through?

God save the day before such light fades away,
And maybe we will keep it safe somehow, someway.


VII

Indifference—one grew old; one grew too cold.
Bitter breeze blew and left all the live scene frozen solid.
One had grown too old; the wind blew far too cold.
Weather worn stones leave their surface unhid;

Not a care in dept of lacking concern.
Had there been  a regard before the days in hand?
How long has it been since fled the capacity to yearn?
Where are these human “frailties?” Scolded by reprimand?

Until there is no feeling—no sense of wonder.
What is left for that life when there is no life with inside kept?
Only a distant past so that of it one might come to ponder—
Where then slips still silence into the passing depths,

So that it would be easier if to myself if I would lie,
I wondering now if it was even worth a try.


VIII

Society—born are life’s privileges,
In that, all operates under grander laws—
Our actions are mirrored images—
Reflections, and we filter our flaws.

We strive forth in contest—forwarded on—
Encompassments shape and mold individual reason
Time peels back layers—exposing that we are one:
A wave progressing, changing from season to season.

Offering to its surface inner effects and change,
While what is constant is underneath appearance—
How I come to know others aside from their names.
Eyes opened to new light offers us deliverance—

We, united—in distancing, we stray;
One in a while we walk together along our way.


IX

The Past—both days gone by, and lives we have left behind;
The memories, whether biased by hate or love,
That we embellish with a forgiving mind—
All troubles endured before, now exalted up above.

Even if we loose almost all do not we have these, still?—
And rely that they come when we give them call?
So long as time has not eroded will,
Always are these things that force can not take away from at all;

As long as the mind, in tact, remains unchanged,
To hope of days gone, we can still hold on.
Like ships, tossed and swayed against waves, we’re strained.
Struggle, yet hope that it will not be for long—

Wish only that we return to days for which we cared;
We need for nothing else in order to be prepared.


X

Hard Times—difficulties may come your way
These tasks, in life, give that much more to the greater good.
Crisis can persist throughout the live long day,
When if even it could end, you know not that it would--

Rainfalls—and all to dampen untroddened ground—
These concerns are as the seasons: eventual.
There are very few steps that will leave one unbound;
Never expect the sunshine will be perpetual.

With Eden long gone, what’s gained is by sweat earned.—
If one is exalted—what’s to be expenditure?
Quit simply, another must give up his term—
One’s reign above all others will never last forever.

We find often that we must default from pleasure—
Find, also, that even in loss we gain just as much by measure.


XI

The Future—a lofty rise toward we strive—
“Desire,” our “Dreams,” that which we’re lacking.
When what we have now simply won’t suffice us to survive,
In wanting for more, there is little room for slacking.

More or less, we make our own; with time we need realize
It is that way in which we build our destiny.
Conquering life is that we gain control over our lives:
What is to be, what is chose?—choose serenity.

Come to see the truth that lies before your own eyes—
Past apparency—where there is exposure to light—
And even further still till no shade gives keep to lies—
Virtue having already won the fight.

To conceive more than had ever been dared
We finally find that all our fates are to be shared.


XII

Fortunate Times—found in memory’s reserves—
Are goals, for which we on our course, endure.—
Met when shared by those whose interest we keep and preserve:
When we touch another unlike anytime before.

It is a matter of the directions we choose;
Not always need there be darkness in place of light.—
In sometime find that the door was in full view,
So close that you could not take in the whole sight.—

Sometimes just stepping back can broaden the seams of your scene.
One should know the role in life that he is to play;
Your duties could rest here, in a rhyme scheme,
Heralding you on through what could become a better day.

Unseparated are others’ fates as measured,
Which makes place for one and all to be secured.


XIII

A Sonnet of Sonnet—a new way of thinking,
To make something new out of something old yet long adored—
Seems the very purpose of creative reasoning.
Let it be here that I give these thoughts—forms I’ve stored:

This, speech drawn from the breath of self expression—
The very life, the very soul this vessel holds indeed.—
Of truth, for which my words contend?—there is no question.
Because with these phrases arranged, to ideas I give heed—

In the discovery of new comprehensions—
Finding that all endeavors must lead to one end;
That through structures we search for conclusions,
Rebuilding out of those contraptions again.

For some this concept would coin the whole of their meaning—
Spilling out their contents, their ideals and believing.


XIV

I      Love…………………………………….…...….….two souls separate, hope to unite.
II      Dreams…………………………..………….were they ever without causeless strife?
III    Friends………………………………….…to have, even throughout constant plights.
IV    Reality……………………………………...………………the line cast runs this life.
V      Desire……………………………………..........……..this way, to self, you can’t lie.
VI    Nature…………………………………….….we’ll keep it safe somehow, someway.
VII    Indifference………………………………………………...….then is it worth a try?
VIII  Society………………………………………………...………….we, along our way
IX    The Past…………………………………………….need nothing else to be prepared
X      Hard Times………………………………..…….find, we gain as much by measure.
XI    The Future…………………………………………...…….our fates are to be shared.
XII    Fortunate Times…………………………………..…………....for all, to be secured.
XIII  Sonnet of Sonnets………………………………………………….ideals; believing.
XIV  Sonnet of Sonnets………………………………………….…….always conceiving.


Note: The entitled, “SONNET OF SONNETS,” is written in bound verse in the form of an especially elaborate Sonnet Sequence consisting self styled sonnets. It was written in rhyme scheme from line to line also in rhyme scheme and “Theme Scheme” from sonnet to sonnet—hence the title, “SONNET OF SONNETS”—with not only the individual lines of each sonnet being written in bound verse, but the entire sonnet sequence itself being bound as well (as a “Bound Sonnet Sequence”) and in the following pattern: abab cdcd efef gg. a whole or portion of the last line of each of the first 13 sonnets in the sequence is taken and then combined together in their preplanned order of succession to form the last sonnet which, again, is not only bound by rhyme scheme, but also by subject/theme (“Theme Scheme”).