Italian Petrachan sonnet*


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In the mourning of a moment
Within the angst I sit and pray
I compose this humble sonnet
There are things which I must say

I cannot convey my story
Without shedding tears of pain
But from their tracks
comes extant Glory
Peerless Hope in You remains

Holding on with trembling fingers
To a Life now broken down
The Rose of Sharon,
Your scent lingers,
In Your Presence I will drown

In a waterfall of suff'ring
Surrounded by the dew of tears
There your angel's voices sing
Through the mist Your Hand appears

In my heart, Hope springs eternal
In my heart, Faith will endure
I will shuffle off the carnal
Your Grace to come, the only cure

In my heart You mend in silence
Quiet there, Your Loving Touch
Is my Friend, and my Reliance
Prayers are said within that Hush

Like water striking on a pane
Your silences are deafening now
As the soil soaks up the rain
Your Love now heals
and growth allows

Can I ever thank You Jesus?
How can I, within this vale?
Can I know how Your Heart sees us?
For with this Knowledge I Prevail...

Here within this Tabernacle
Life is short, or so they say,
I will loosen bond and shackle

By living out your Love TODAY.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/11/2015