Saturday, April 9, 2011

Day 32, Sonnet 32

How quietly do memories appear;

How steathily they move in dark of night.

When hearts are tender in their sleepy fear,

Anxiety invades with frightening might.

The mind will dwell on actions not performed

Or ruminate on words too quickly said

The hands will shake when brittle bones are stormed

As recollection rears its ugly head.

But past is past and only past can be

Though formative its traumas may become.

Long gone are foes or fickle enemies

The battlefield’s abandoned; wars are done.

Let thoughts not be the realm where fear resides

But rather be terrain where peace abides.

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