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    AC Benus
  • AC Benus
  • Author
  • 08/25/2016
  • 237 Words
  • 1,921 Views
  • 8 Comments
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

One Hundred and Fifty-Five Sonnets - 21. portends

.

Sonnet No. 41

 

Like a man sitting in an empty church,

A whisper about me reverberates,

Filling dark recesses as if to search

The holy voids where His light hesitates.

If I fold my hands in prayer and watch them,

I see one hand mine and the other yours,

And if from my muttering mouth prayers stem,

It's our commingled voice that then endures.

Lonely and separate as we are right now,

The sacred emptiness is just your soul,

And I inhabit that space somehow,

Knowing even your absence can console.

Still, I whisper your Name and Love at once,

And two forces soar and the gloom confronts.

 

 

Sonnet No. 42

 

Oh my boy, the autumn seems to come on,

With each day a little less light than last,

While a bit more bleakness greets every dawn,

Whose grayness tries to say summer is past.

But the days themselves are bright and sunny –

I have you and your smile to keep me up,

And although it might sound somewhat funny,

With you my day also seems to windup.

The sunsets come sooner with their chill,

And inch-by-inch the day is given to night

To longer make my sleep and dreams until

I once again can behold you in my sight.

Autumn portends no misery this year,

No chill wind will touch me if you are near.

 

 

_

...written about this time of year three years ago...
Copyright © 2018 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 6
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Parker Owens

Number 42 appeals to me for its understanding and anticipation of the season to come. Autumn is a time to be spent in company, in companionship, for strength and love before winter. You convey this artfully. Number 41 resonated more deeply with me, with so many powerful images. "A whisper about me reverberates, filling dark recesses as if to search the holy voids where His light hesitates." I spent a long time on that set of lines alone, just drinking them in. The held hands in prayer, the joined voices, I can see and hear them. "The sacred emptiness is just your soul, and I inhabit that space somehow..." And the soul in that space whispers to us, allowing it to inhabit us, too... "Still, I whisper your Name and Love at once..." They are one and the same; and in this poem you have made them holy. Number 41 is one of your best in this series. Thank you.

  • Love 1
AC Benus
On 8/25/2016 at 9:56 AM, Parker Owens said:

Number 42 appeals to me for its understanding and anticipation of the season to come. Autumn is a time to be spent in company, in companionship, for strength and love before winter. You convey this artfully. Number 41 resonated more deeply with me, with so many powerful images. "A whisper about me reverberates, filling dark recesses as if to search the holy voids where His light hesitates." I spent a long time on that set of lines alone, just drinking them in. The held hands in prayer, the joined voices, I can see and hear them. "The sacred emptiness is just your soul, and I inhabit that space somehow..." And the soul in that space whispers to us, allowing it to inhabit us, too... "Still, I whisper your Name and Love at once..." They are one and the same; and in this poem you have made them holy. Number 41 is one of your best in this series. Thank you.

Thank you, Parker. There are few more coming touching upon Autumn as a theme.

Concerning No. 41, the concept of a holy void is one that resonates with me. I think of the cave that plays a staring role in Forster's "A Passage to India," and used a bit of that metaphor in the first "Judas Tree" novella.

It's wonderful feedback to know it's resonating with folks. Thanks for a wonderful review!

Edited by AC Benus
AC Benus
On 8/26/2016 at 1:27 AM, Emi GS said:

Two sides of same coin, these two poems. One cherish and one grieve. One makes the joy as one asking for solace. One through your heart and one through your soul. Lovely images of different times and different images.

 

As usual, wonderful poems. Loved them... :)

 

~Emi.

Thank you, Emi! "One through your heart, one through your soul" Lovely image and comments, and I appreciate them a great deal.

Cheers once again.

Edited by AC Benus
AC Benus
On 8/26/2016 at 9:42 PM, Mikiesboy said:

Oh ... my. While I love them both, 41, is you, it's brilliant. You haven't just told about your love, you have painted it with your words. This I could read daily and never tire. Simply wonderful!

 

tim xoxo

Thank you, Tim. Read daily and never tire is very high praise indeed, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it.

You offer wonderful support, thanks again!

Edited by AC Benus
skinnydragon

Very nice. Both. Very nice.

 

I suppose I should say 42 was rust-colored with the dual meaning of that season. But...
41 kept intruding--sorry--the setting conjured in my mind was of a dark, chilly, empty vaulted cathedral.

 

The thoughts of love and two hands enjoined seemed achingly forced in those confines.
I'm sure it wasn't what you had in your mind, but I couldn't shake the image from my mind.
And so, I'll quietly dip my fingers in the holy water and slip away.

  • Love 1
AC Benus
On 8/28/2016 at 8:47 PM, skinnydragon said:

Very nice. Both. Very nice.

 

I suppose I should say 42 was rust-colored with the dual meaning of that season. But...

41 kept intruding--sorry--the setting conjured in my mind was of a dark, chilly, empty vaulted cathedral.

 

The thoughts of love and two hands enjoined seemed achingly forced in those confines.

I'm sure it wasn't what you had in your mind, but I couldn't shake the image from my mind.

And so, I'll quietly dip my fingers in the holy water and slip away.

Thank you, skinnydragon. There is no right or wrong in interpreting poetry, and I'll be the very last one to tell a person how he or she should think or feel about my work.

Your comments about 'forced' are intriguing in themselves. You could mean forced to cling to one another through shared necessity, or equally it could mean one is holding tighter than the other. Both are very interesting notions, and worthy of exploration.

Thanks once again for a wonderful review. I always appreciate your support and feedback :)

Edited by AC Benus
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