I just finished work-shopping the sonnet I wrote for our poetry class. We followed the Shakespearean format, of 10 syllables per line, the correct ABAB rhyme scheme in three quatrains and a finishing couplet. It was daunting, impossible, until all a sudden it wasn’t and I “got ” it. Nobody in my class suggested any changes so here it is. It belongs to Halloween, the thinning of the veils between the worlds.
Death’s Garden; A Sonnet
by Judi Bachrach 10/22/18
Sitting alone at the top of my head,
The mind grasps at everything to mean something.
Tell me how to live now that he is dead!
My heart cries, keens, remembers how to sing.
The soil of pain breeds rich fertility.
The mind cannot comprehend the reason,
Wonders at its own inability,
To reap Love’s harvest from this dark season.
Death’s bounty brings me spaciousness at last,
Lets my mind rest inside the mystery.
The heart frees my thoughts from future and past.
A seed planted now creates history.
Life is the digging, love is the growing,
My soul flourishes in peace, Not Knowing.