Well, I know I've just posted sonnet six, but my Internet is working supremely well this morning, so it seems wise for me to upload the final sonnet while I can. We can still comment on either one, but I'd like to get this out before my Internet refuses to cooperate. I've posted pix to some of the earlier sonnets as well, which was my intention from the beginning, but it just wouldn't GO. We need sky pictures to keep us alive here.

Anyway, here is the final "installment" from the Seven Sonnets Through the Dark. I'm almost sad to see this end....










Diliculum
(daybreak)

“In the morning let me know your love for I put my trust in you.” Psalm 143
“For it was you who created my being…
I thank you for the wonder of my being, for the wonders of all your creation…
Lead me in the pat of life eternal.” Psalm 139

At dawn the world is gilded by starfire,
Our Stonehenge just a monumental tomb;
In the dark He has clothed us in festal attire
To await the near arrival of the Groom.
We are creatures of an uncreated God,
Created to reflect the Absolute;
By following the blood-paved path He trod
We allow Him to bring forth in us His fruit.
Living thuribles before Love’s Altar,
Sanctuary lamps before Light’s Throne,
Our love and work an endless radiant psalter;
We carry living Flame in flesh and bone.
We come from Goodness, Mercy our sojourn;
Rescued by Wisdom, to the Father’s Heart we return.

We’ve made Honora tired talking about life moving at the speed of light (or almost – as fast as fiber optic cable can carry information anyway) and she wants to nap now. But before she nods off, a new sonnet. We’re nearing the end of these Seven Sonnets Through the Dark – this is number six:

Ante lucem
(before daybreak)
“Open to me the gates of holiness: I will enter and give thanks…
I will thank you for you have answered and you are my savior.” - Psalm 118


The first rays of the dawn are stone cold gray
And they still allow the depths and heights to hide,
But they portend a warm renewal and the day –
The Bridegroom ever coming to His Bride.
Something’s on the point of breaking forth:
Cold embers can be coaxed into a flame,
The thread of my remembering and support
Woven to altar cloth to offer my shame.
The wilderness has ravaged all I held,
Darkness whispered I was far astray,
Poverty persuaded me I cannot save myself;
Yet I trust the love I knew will not betray.
This barest light disperses every fear;
His Heart is the door burst open by the spear.

As much as I'd like to dig deeper into Mary and myrrh, we've got three more sonnets to go to finish up these "Seven Sonnets Through the Dark." So, here's a new one to ponder:

In nocte consilium
(the night brings counsel)
“I rise before the dawn and cry for help, I hope in your word.
My eyes watch through the night to ponder your promise.” Psalm 119

On this craggy precipice, hope-bare heart in hand,
Gazing east through arid pathlessness,
I brace my battered faith in Promised Land
With touchstones of Your love and changelessness.
We must be freely emptied to be filled,
And a ruptured heart’s capacity’s increased;
Our hearts furrowed for mercy by acceptance of our guilt,
As darkness defines light and fasting feast.
I peer beyond familiar stone into the endless space
That is Your love, and all that’s good and just,
And I know the proving desert is sheer grace –
From the cliff I freefall empty-handed, and I trust.
When our orientation to earth we release,
we are oriented to Heaven, and we find peace.

Buon giorno, amici.
I think it's time for a new sonnet. One of my favorites, actually. Number four of the "Seven Sonnets Through the Dark:"


Nox luna inlustris
(a moonlit night)
“…to you I stretch out my hands. Like a parched land my soul thirsts for you.” Psalm 143

Left alone to contemplate the absence of my love,
Lie apostles on Ascension Friday morn;
Confusion skulking vaguely in the blood,
A longlost fear and brackish grief reborn.
With eyes new-bright to the meaning of this cross,
I see the blood He gave first came from her;
Mother-love is balm for souls deep rent by loss –
Like the eleven I draw near for her myrrh.
She proves that to ascend, we must bow down,
The way to rush toward Him is to be still;
She tills spirit for the Spirit, suffusing sterile ground
With fountains from two hearts pierced on a hill.
Anointed by this gentle light I rise,
Lead by a mother who renews and fructifies.

With no introduction necessary, I think, here is the third sonnet from “Seven Sonnets Through the Dark” –









In tenebris
(in darkness)
“Cloud and darkness are His raiment…A fire prepares His path.” Psalm 97

Bereft of light and rock I yet hold fast
To the finest outstrung thread of what defined me.
I know this turbid umbra cannot last
And espy the burning tears and sand behind me.
I long to have the grace of ever-yes,
But it takes heroic effort just to hold,
Encinctured with the sins I’ve oft confessed
And all the doubt and shadow yet untold.
Yet deep within the blaze of secret fire
Which guides His sheep beyond this self bedim,
The flame He set on earth still burns, inspires
Those He’s called to come and follow Him.
All that once was gain I count as loss;
The only way through darkness is the cross.