There are times, that stand unwavering in our memories.
Times when we knew change, and learned new perspectives.
Times of glory, and victory, maybe emerging from defeat and disgrace.
Times that are always there, unwavering in our memories.
Sonnet 53 :
A path I set, to my aimless weak breeze
Through the naked branches of my dead trees,
A song I kept, for the moment of ease
When I would lay my weight upon my knees.
As the sparrow of winter, wet and still
Dreaming of the yellow lively sunrays,
As the young cedars of the lofty hill
Whose sleep is but a wait, for brighter days.
I met God in mid street at early dawn,
When upon the warmth of my heedless face
The winter soul connected with my own
And shook the stillness of its placid base.
When I gaze long upon the days that run,
I now know there will always be a sun.
