Sonnet V: Inscribed Elegy

Posted by David Emeron on

The gentle rain, as gentle notes, inscribe:
A mourning song for images withdrawn;
A pleasing elegy to moments gone;
Or passing fancies, never real. Describe

The rain, and gentle airs will drift to mind:
The dreaming sounds of feeling; river songs,
A never ending symphony, in throngs
Of sound, imbibing, then, of rivers winding

Endlessly about the morning light;
Entwining dewy havens of the heart;
And mountains of a mighty spirit’s height,
Transfixing grateful captives of its art.
How beautiful the rain and music are,
That take us into paradise so far.

  • To my friend Jena:
    So that you may remember
    How I love the rain.

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

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16 responses to “Sonnet V: Inscribed Elegy”

    • well… Sometimes it really is easy, although more often it is not. When it is easy, it can take me between 1 and 2 hours until I’m 98% satisfied, and when its difficult, it can take 8 or more. For instance this one took quite a long time because of research and several very difficult extra constraints on the form as the first letters of each line (but only the lines that have more than 9 syllables (line 4 has has an extra beat that carries over to line 5), therefore only 13, spell something. Then, there were mythology and the names in medieval or Andalusian times, for certain provinces and regions–among other things–about 12 – 14 hours, if I remember correctly. I didn’t finish it in one day; but I always try to write ahead so that I can worry over a difficult one at my leisure.

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  4. I want to curl up in this one – to listen to the rain – to feel and smell it. This is how I feel on those nights in the summer when I cannot sleep and I am sitting outside on my back steps. A gentle rain begins and I sit there and allow it to happen around and on me – as if I were a rock at Ryoan-ji – peaceful and one with the rain. Thank you for these words.

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    Reply

    • I feel very fortunate to receive such considered and thoughtful comments. Rain is the primary reason we live in the pacific north-west. The rain is frequent here, and quite lovely; however not half so fascinating and lovely as the desert rain of my youth. Though infrequent, except in the monsoon season (which I so love) the rain there is magical. And during that season, for a short while, perhaps a month, it will rain almost every day.

      And it is warm then
      In summer when the rain falls
      Like blossoms in spring

      Or like a torrent
      It paralyses the Earth
      Force from which one hides

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  5. The pavement shimmers
    In the late afternoon sun
    Blazing through still air

    One fat drop spatters
    Doors all down the street open
    They’re greeting the rain

    Arms held wide open
    Heads thrown back in joyous thrall
    To feel the cool rain

    Tonight we will bring
    Blankets to the porch. To sit
    And watch the lightening

    Through the long night in
    The rare summer cool, we will
    Watch the first storm rage

    There will be more storms
    Monsoon season has started
    A cocoon of rain

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    Reply

    • I realise the rain can be difficult for some. Even I have mixed emotions about it. Or, I suppose I should so state: mixed metaphors; for I have indeed used the rain as a metaphor for darkness or sadness, as have many writers.

      But this is a very kind compliment from one who admits to such sentiments about the rain. I am most humbled by your words.

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