Category: Sonnet

The mind is full, the week ahead looms wide,
With voices calling — wife and kin and all —
Yet in this quiet Saturday, I hide,
And let the pen and paper catch my fall.
I’ve chased the world and felt its tightened net,
Served everyone but left myself behind,
A glimmer stirs — not risen fully yet —
A soft and patient easing of the mind.
So let me breathe. Let cafe murmurs be
The gentle hum that loosens what is taut,
And in the hubbub, find that I am free —
Less lonely, more myself, more calmly wrought.
For I have loved, and still can read, and write —
Enough. Today, I’ll trust the coming light.