Sonnets to E pt.4


XXXIV


‘Who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence,’ 1

 

a fellow poet claimed, appreciating all that breaths

lest creator’s work be slandered by unappreciation’s lance

and that would be the argument opposer bareth

Nonetheless I’d offer a friendly grin

and say calmly no no, my friend

it sounds good, yet vainly thy offers stand

For I’d stay and rather caress her chin

 

Be aware well, to fancy others might seem sound

yet thinking of her, merely for a reflection

 

of a shadow on a muddy road, a glance - an abstraction

I’d be chasing her tirelessly like a fasting hound

 

For I might be cheerful and desire beauties sworn

yet with every beat of my heart I long for her evermore.



1 - William Blake



 

XXXV


Therefore, beloved, my heart belongs to a chair at thy fireplace

 

Ignite sparks and warm it well, whenever needed

offer tonics and gentle tears to heal all these wounds by grace

I am weak, yet strong enough to admit it downgraded

O, in awe and agony I conceal my mirror clean

Painting image from words to uplift thy mood

just a bit, I hope thou findst it just to call it good

 

Thy touch and mark to receive opens fields evergreen

to me, for I wish just for that, and yes I am asking heavens

O, I am sovereign to demand this abundance

of goodness and rejuvenating deliverance

And all the mazes and curved paths thine image straightens

‘I only love thee, let it pass,’ thou once said

 

and I always thought it a greatest of all gifts in my hand.


 

XXXVI


 

159 years and Sun shines not on me, yet induces draughts

 

and people would charge me with frauds

 

Nay, let perseverance bear me a witness

and allow to love purely, not minding holiness

nor any other fame nor credit nor recognition

to boost nor uplift drive’s lust for a position

I testify what needs to be enlightened

that the folk’s perception be finally brightened

thus a love to share, I nod – a prophet of love!

Love so simple and innocent

as if offered by a naked one in an empty hand

 

to celebrate fullness human releases anyhow

To burst and rain down, celebrating

Union of two, reconciliation everlasting.


XXXVII


Which brings peace to a soul to settle down

and that was what I found in meaning of sages’ lines

 

to return to Lord’s house and repose renown

 

Thus the story completes itself observing ripeness of vines

Journey was long, and maturely we did admit

with calm faces in brown gowns and hoods

that the lamp that led us through all be forever lit

 

and placed at our window as a lantern of Gods

We approve with care and provide it an honorary space

Daunting strength emerges from those who understand

 

the meaning of all gestures that form the ritual and lead the hand

 

to honour, and never scorn by protests, not even in whispers

 

Daunting is the beauty of being old enough

To understand how heavens must be brought.


XXXVIII


My grateful peace and turbulence

they all live, don’t they? Taking place

even oftener is offered a vortex of choices

We strive for private order to bash chaoses

endeavours to make us loose the ground

 

Oh! Loose the ground, behold!

Gently walk the Earth ‘tis been told

To not defile much the plane all around

Apart from ideal we’d be led astray

discovering images in feather’s flight

and I’d be curious to observe anyway

just keenly enough, to spot thy might

Amidst the grotesque and the playful

All for a trace of thee, and the rest be pitiful.


XXXIX


Touch me once more after all that time

it revives all in me I can care for

how the silence stroke me to core

how much it mattered to me! Be mine -

be mine and don’t think much, don’t talk

as I would breathe on thee gently

I think of what I hold even more intently

a gust of wind from my lips, removeth not chalk -

a line that marked the boundary of our stronghold

an apple, a flame, a mirror, a cup overflown

we’d take refuge in unstable places being bold

lifting up the force, being stable in land unknown

Mark how unwavering is the power of this command

from eyes fixed fiercely to crown-bearers’ rightful demand.


XL


Thus our love be authentic in all mystery

people would forsake not, and find theirs instead

Fill me the cup and drink, the fullness of taste

Lands and broadness of Earth and misery

we went on through, it now opens up widely

as a bounty to feast on, a blissful memory

inexpressible fullness lieth in our history

when hourglasses last grains rained delightly.

I find little words to express how astonishing

it the peace that emerges from our story

Honorary is the knight’s sword relinquishing

the last traces of what we called worry

 

Wrap these words, beloved, I offer thee a parchment,

Make thyself a sage’s scroll, and render my love permanent.


XLI


Now that we have arrived at last

Let me acknowledge the length of our past

Italy’s medieval, Avignon and France

All places through – love and deliverance

Greeks were our favourites

Attending rites at Eleusis

And thou high priestess with due honour and might

With pride I observed thee with utmost delight

People had it often wrong

Think it cute, yet Egypt was strong

I mean Egypt, if they considered it impressive

maybe it still needed a bit more appreciation

what was there and what was not, always speculation

Seeing you there, nestled in magic, intense, seductive.


XLII


Considering now how story unfolds

have we wrapped our soul’s journey

already like a magic carpet to be tossed

into a drawer to be forgotten for a century?

Imagination be vain if I can’t see

what stages next might and ought to be

Mounts and cities were respectful maybe

by rivers flushed sent messages into the sea

For we lived long and we lived well

Through endless grieves glanced at hell

 

Unmoving and prepared not to bend

to forces alien knowing we had power lent

by the graces of our nature’s own

‘tis my truth in thee, only one I’ve ever known.


XLIII


Wilt thou then, beloved, take yet again my hand

that our kingdom we could boldly expand

Such is my wish, arctic clarity

that we’d be striding for eternity

Finally together and mature in joy

that obstacles were our friends

destined to meet their bitter ends

to us the world was our toy

Come with me! Come forth merrily

that we play in creator’s gardens

that we dance in halls with wardens

Needing not to enforce wearily

any-more anything, easily we carry on

in one eye’s blink, our love is known.


XLIV


And in that one eye’s mirthful blink

at thee I will invitingly wink

Thou shan’t mourn and thou shan’t cry

Lives will come and victory is nigh

And I can see this altar up high

 

God’s own lovely angels lent us heaven

that we shall praise and glorify

That live overflows from our haven

What to do next I leave to thee to propose

with interplays of fragrant tunes I might interpose

I hope thou wilt engladdened be

alive together I shall have my wish

To compose one entire world never to vanish

With thee only, my holy land of EBB.


… sequel



XLV


There are no paths that taken be must

still we walk them through it might seem

though all turneth back to a silent stream

Cups art refilled nonchalantly in days of no trust

even, so love endureth in blinded scarcity

and it tossed away all such necessity

no proof nor test as requirement

affirming stealthily the cord of silver

bounds of wows so intimate

that the hair on my skin ceases not to quiver

When there is nought to induce any doubt at last

Let the lanterne be lit and glow purple light

nestled in black, soothing dark of the night

Mirroring the peace of the portal that we have passed.


XLVI


How much is now given and how much taken

to swindle between creating world of our own

and accepting all that had been entrusted and known

Will there be long walks on paths lonely forgiven

Lonelier and lonelier for a wanderers to acclaim

the daring force to push our vision from dominance’s

standpoint, overcoming slavery of souls enhances

the endeavour true as sparkling fountain

Do we need an overseeing figure

to test what we could endure

Or is the nexus of trust defined

by sovereign freedom undefiled

by no fears nor commandments, nor recommendations

that we write our poetry truer than blinded generations.


XLVII


My companion of times old

how many paths turned to rust

as thy gown swept away the dust

from all that came and went, behold

then, as we clean the silver mirror

and recollect the sparks that radiate

from the other world, ‘tis immediate

its reaction sewing inferior with ulterior

As I discard the worlds that serve me less

than the lively spark I recognised in a way

we call natural, simplicity brings me my mistress

yet again, and over and over, and then again!

Is it renewal or reform of shapes that reign

over the echo of time as heart unleashed its cry to every vein.




XLVIII


And if this vein’s blood be well brewed and boiled

 

See that no debris our treasurehood could have spoiled

For the passion that overcomes is clear as the day

And if battalions try to bring havoc, come what may

Since the confidence we hath fostered

comes from indifference to fear of losing what is silent

And in that void of peace we empowered

our hold over the fleeting curve of rise and descend

The wild lust and sparks under the cauldron

we turned to serve us and brew

a potion that pestilence outgrew

Claim looking at me, we’re free to carry on!!

Thou hath thy liberty, my loveliest

To play with my heart, after it had been put to test.


XLIX


Difficult subjects had I in my mind, beloved,

self-sacrifice was introduced as queen of mysteries

yet holding thy hand, putting all aside as allowed

to me was no loss, but pure joy above all miseries

and the threshold reached through rites of passage

which wast the generals’ only true king

came to me as leaf on feather’s wing

announcing that there is end to all the damage

That wast inflicted upon dignity of ours

and whose lake wast dried in its last hours

Observe how ‘twas all brought to its end

that finally we’d need not to defend

any-more these things natural and given in delight

as both birthright and the bounty after last fight.


L


Were there any limits set, if even possible

was it at all, to avoid recalling the inevitable

Thy magic’s alive! And it was so always

 

some could not see how thou couldst be locked dwelling

as if in a cell and yet thy world counted the days

In presence of thy origin that flourished expanding

untouchably to reform the world that was never given

Future pre-written by potential of the former descent

yet of nobler visitor, to redeem the flowers without scent

So ‘twas laid, foundations and all, prophecy of joy even

 

Weary minstrel-life’ was it or rather

Faerie minstrel-like, after all the struggle pays itself off

since balance turns the favours without leaving us caught

Seeds of sparkling mirth left to scatter.




...to be continued & never end

since 'tis more than three years that I see ghost of my dead love

and that is what I desire for me all that time.

Witchcraft Alchemy Astrology