Sonnet 42

Preface

I sit betwixt my failure and my success, i weigh them both, and put them into the scale of giving.

An abundance, which is grown in talkative and chaos , yet it can only be reaped in silence and in the low tide of mind.

As I see the scale is no more even, I ponder in astonishment.

© Ziad Dib Jreige #sonnet42

I looked upon the field which stood at right
Where I sowed years back half of my dear seeds,
I saw there that the hopes and deeds were right
And I smiled with all my satisfied needs.
Then I looked upon the field at my left
Where I sowed the other half of my dear seeds,
And I saw a bare land, with nothing left
But a rotted foul soil and few sick weeds.
In rage I thought of what could I have brought
With me when at left, I left my young hope
My little mind grew with what my heed caught
Around my dying seeds that could not cope.
My sucess gave me much, yet more I care
Of what my failure with me does share.

© Ziad Dib Jreige #sonnet42