Sunday Sonnet!

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I cannot tell the depth of debt I owe
To hallowed architect of life, contrived,
With ne’er a mite of hope to disavow,
That all these years, by Grace, I have survived;
Not always prudent in elected path,
In innocence as much as ignorance,
Bequeathing painful scars in aftermath,
Benificence prevailed in my defence.
Grim, darker days by demons were beset,
Yet, held by loyal love of one who cared,
The halls of hope to want were never let,
Nor falls to taunts of shame were ever bared.
A grateful heart to God of Grace I raise,
With sacramental songs replete with praise.

©Meanderings 2018

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Sunday Sonnet!

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Effusive silence gently penetrates
Obscured recesses of receptive soul,
Her wordless eloquence regenerates,
Fatigued and brokenness to be made whole;
No need there be it’s healing to access,
With zest our puny efforts to instill,
Save patient resignation to possess,
Humility aplenty, to be still!
Fear not disruptive demons of unease
Intent on obviating wholesomeness,
Embrace of blessed quietude decrees
Assurance of her sanative caress.
Imbibe the stillness of this sacred place,
An earthbound channel of redeeming grace.

©Meanderings 2018

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