The Time of Misunderstanding

Now begins the time of misunderstanding.
Daffodils bud, insert green leaves into a space
full of sudden yellowing. We plan for nothing.
We hope for everything. We hush. Face orbits face,
then turns away, full of silence and full of grace.
Questions grow like weeds, awkward, tough as anyone,
tangled up with ‘maybe’, swaying like Queen Anne’s Lace
for a moment, then sprawling greedy in the sun
and waiting wounded for the rain. It has begun.
The clouds gather, full of thunder, then full of peace.
What will break first — the sound? or the silence? It’s done.
It’s done. Let’s unknit all our expectations, cease
the staring contest, allow hands to cup like spoons,
unlock words like cracking ice under summer moons.


3 responses to “The Time of Misunderstanding

  1. A Shakespearean sonnet. I wish I could write a sonnet as fine as this. The sonnet is one of my favorite forms, but I can’t write them worth a damn.

  2. Actually, this is a Spenserian sonnet form (a variant of the Shakespearean). Shakespearean rhyme pattern is abab cdcd efef gg, while Spenserian is a little tougher (abab bcbc cdcd ee). I almost always write sonnets in Shakespearean, seldom in Petrarchan, but this was my first Spenserian, and I rather like it. I like villanelles a lot also, and (now that Dana introduced me to them) pantoums. Of course, haiku and tanka, and syllabics when I feel lazy. This one was a gift of grace. Sometimes sonnets come to me like that — suddenly, without warning, spinning out like a prayer or a vision, magically. This practically wrote itself – only took a few minutes, less than an hour. I love it, but don’t quite feel like I wrote it. Do you know what I mean? Ursula LeGuin told me once it is called being “a reed the wind blows through”, and that really is what it feels like.

  3. Pingback: Today is 2 Men 13 Ch’en « Dr. Omed’s Tent Show Revival

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