Can the little baize box of the sonnet bear such cargo?
The sonnet can bear anything. It bears
the anguish of the heart, the need of soul
to understand the why of why Love tears
shy hope to shreds that wanted to feel whole.
It bears the weather from the dawn to dark,
the ocean’s vast indifference, the grave-
yard of its crushing depths, the silver sparks
of sun on leaves, the miracle of days.
It bears our history of savagery,
the art we’ve left that shows our spirits’ needs,
our efforts, through myopia, to see
the deeper, simpler truths beyond our greed.
It is the scrap you find that wind has brought,
a map of lands you’d no idea you sought.
by Ed Hack
Editor’s Note: This sonnet perfectly encapsulates the purpose of a poem.