You are silver footed fountain filled with dirt,
I just wish someone had said, “Brace yourself this is going to hurt
Expect turbulence
And everyone’s 3 cents,
We all sin, fall short and begin again,
It just bumps a little in the middle,
But center yourself and smile child,
You are a storm both dormant and wild,
Both domestic and expansive”
In this desert I wander,
Flowers fragrant and I ponder,
Trying to unravel the mystery,
Perplexed by this history,
Hungry for chrysalis,
Seeking true love’s kiss,
Is all lost in the abyss?
“Is not everything possible, does the sun not still rise?
Come, child, wipe the tears from your eyes,
I, Grace, make all things new,
Even you”
Image:https://www.imagekind.com/Chrysalis_art?IMID=e9fbb345-88b6-433b-b350-3f14cd853908
Shakespeare Sonnet remixed, Sonnet 35:
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud,
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
All men make faults, and even I in this,
Authórizing thy trespass with compare,
Myself corrupting salving thy amiss,
Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are:
For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense—
Thy adverse party is thy advocate—
And ‘gainst myself a lawful plea commence.
Such civil war is in my love and hate,
That I an áccessory needs must be
To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
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Published by Faithful Fractals: Poetic Prayers by April Barnhart MDiv
Heartland Native, Northwest transplant. April Barnhart is a graduate of Earlham School of Religion. Former Interfaith Chaplain and Pastor. April has been writing poetry and music for close to 30 years.
View all posts by Faithful Fractals: Poetic Prayers by April Barnhart MDiv
