Sonnet No. 8 – a Joyful sadness
A joyful sadness roils in my soul,
‘ere thoughts of loved ones left life come to call.
No longer doth I dive; bleak, black as coal.
Fain welcome them: their souls, hearts, one and all.
Now my heart, once asunder, springs in joy.
My heart, once toppled, leaps in simple glee.
Their image doth return; pure, unalloyed,
when visitors, now gone, return to me.
One cannot fix the past nor make amends
with those whose lives are gone for all eterne.
Indeed, if spirit’s passed beyond our ken,
pleased, it shalt be for goodness thou doth yearn.
One cannot draw them back; they are but dream.
Hark, when their spectres glow, savor the gleam.
— February 2019
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