When rain and chill conspire in the air,
a dungeon's damp distills into a fog
that burdens souls with ballasts of despair
and smothers breath within its clammy smog.
My dreams, like dew, they struggle to ascend
to where these shivered sorrows and their weight
no longer serve to anchor, nor offend,
nor drag me down, still tethered to their freight.
For high above the sobbing of the storm
awaits a never-tainted swell of sky
where even birds forgo the flocks they form
and seek a perch more pleasing to the eye.
When circumstance cloaks darkness 'round the soul,
encourage flight and manifest parole.
About the Poem
This sonnet reflects a transformation that recently has taken place in my life by rising above feelings of living in a rut by making changes that have restored a greater passion and delight.
This poem is previously unpublished in print. It was finished October 7, 2006.