Sonnet XIII: Falling

Extraordinary blooms, ye mustn’t fall,
Although bereft of you I plaintive sing;
Complete, your gifted dedication all–

For nothing–your renunciation; bring…
To me, my restlessness, one restful gift,
Another consequential tear, one ring…

Of truthful blossoming, cascading swift,
Of falling and of blowing, gently brave;
Traversing mountains, even oceans, lift–

Beyond torrential, gentle blossoms gave;
Beyond such starfields, drop and bloom perfect;
Away… beyond temporal counting, save…
Our loneliness, do each to us affect;
As petal-drops, alone, our days reflect.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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7 responses to “Sonnet XIII: Falling

  1. To say thank you for this beautiful piece is woefully inadequate. No words…. In spite of being in the bottom of a Marianas trench depression, I find myself smiling and hoping, envisioning petals held captive by the cold, opening and showing forth the golden heart of the flower to reflect the gold of the sun. As usual, your words captivate me and lift me to a different level. In other words, words by the great Salinger in a letter to me “….read in a curiously slow and grateful way….”

    You and your lady hug each other for me. I’d love to give a good resounding southern girl, minimakaze smack on the cheek to both of you.

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  2. Reblogged this on kanzen sakura and commented:

    David is one of the most talented writers I know. having read too much Shakespeare in my life, his faery princess wife and I agree that he out sonnets Shakespeare…please go to his website and read his incredible words. and (ahem) this wonderful piece he wrote for me.

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    • This is most kind. Now… usually I do not edit people’s comments; but in this case I could not help myself. I am most definitely NOT a “legend in my own mind,” and I believe I understood your intent correctly, hence the slight edit. And I have now borrowed the corrected version from your own site and pasted it here. So the edited version is gone; replaced by your own words, most kind.

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  3. Everything I had waited for. Wonderfully done, darling, splendid in it’s crafting.

    The plum tree is in full blossom, Kanzen. Every year as my dear David fights the black dog I have stood in the front bay window and watched the plum tree that intrudes itself into our porch. Every year it goes through the beautiful stark winter with the water drops shimmering in the light behind it and then the buds coming in and staying for what seemed an impossibly short time before it blooms out in glory. As your name denominates you, Kanzen, I pray that you, like my well loved plum tree soon find solace and climb from the Marianas trench to the blossoming phase. [And That mind picture is teh funnee, I don’t care who you are…heh]

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    • The buds are there, and though still tight and small, still the bloom waits for the sun knowing it will shine again. Though winter is in my heart and snow clogs my itty bitty brain, hope and sun spring eternal. I know that one day, one day in its proper time, the bloom will burst forth. maybe a bit ragged on the edges, maybe a tad slow, but still will bloom in spite of all.

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