Benediction for a Poet, After Long Years
A Year of Sonnets — 017/365
I pray the Zodiac into your dreams,
that stars illuminate some final home
where you may watch anon at stellar seams
forever free to wander and to roam,
to stare with eyes alight at nature’s forge
and paint in words the genesis of dust
for those who stand beside you in that gorge
preoccupied with hearts of earthly rust.
Or sleep, perhaps, and put away the pen —
if there be pens beyond this tired sphere —
for you, dear soul, fulfilled the poet’s ken
and now may rest devoid of hurt and fear.
If rest you will: the universe may wake
your soul again to try another take.