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
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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.
_
- 6
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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