Azalea Sonnet #2

 

I search for you, my splendid star

but in light of day you are nowhere to be found

the sun will not let me see you—
his white light empty and austere—
in the blazing glare of summer
I burn with bitter thirst

the land lays brightly longing
the birds are but ghosts of heaven
singing their tormenting hymns
the flowers brilliantly despair

I cannot see you in the blinding daylight
but only in the darkness of my dreams
in the remotest depths of night
far from the dreary morrow

there, bright star, do I find you—
your light ever pure, ever sweet—
your enchanting silver love-glow
calling me tenderly across the void

guiding me toward my unseen home
your gentle gravity drawing me toward you
your ardent fire reflected in my eyes
you—my radiance, my bliss

I meet you in the morning mists
just before the cruel and careless dawn
where you, my resplendent and my glorious love,
grace me with your gleaming kiss

there, in the vale of oblivious shadows,
I adore your fairest, rarest face
and gaze into your love-dark eyes
and feel you quiver at my touch

there we lay in the longing moonlight
for a languid, languishing moment—
mourning the imminent passing
of the mythic, dreaming night

I awake, alas, in a city with no name
finding myself nowhere in the world
I walk the garden but do not see
the blossoms that sigh at your approach

nor hear the rapturous bluebird's song
that heralds your arrival
nor catch the fainting fragrance
of your miraculous presence on the earth

not here the perfume of orange in the spring
nor the pink and purple ecstasies of bursting forth azaleas
nor the balmy wind that blows the moss among the oaks

nor a sky as brilliant blue as the one above us together
nor the richness of the sunbeams that play upon your face
nor the soft and airy clouds that carry us to contentment

but only here the useless daylight
an emptiness by the lake
and the sweetness of your name




Steven Holland
July 30, 2014