AN EXCUSE AND TWO SONNETS

It has been next to impossible to find time to compose a post due to various crises in my life. Ordinarily my sense of humor kicks in and I can creatively sing in the rain, because A.) it sure beats crying and B.) God is in everything, which means joy is in every situation, albeit sometimes very hard to see.

In a nutshell, a daughter faced homelessness with her two children, and my mother-in-law has experienced a strange dementia made perplexing because, unlike most dementia, hers may be reversible. So at age seventy I’m not able to retire, but must be a caregiver, along with my wife.

In some ways this has been a good thing because I simply don’t have time to worry about the insane state of the nation, and the world. I have several posts half completed, but they are already out-dated. Before I have time to point out certain behavior is irrational our leaders double down on their stupidity.

However, I have completed a couple of sonnets I like, and here they are:

Oh, we think we are so smart, with our wits like
Looking at the Grand Canyon through a keyhole.
With each ego bristling a porcupine spike
We lift narrow needle noses. Control
The universe? You'd think so, but a mote
Of dust floating in a sunbeam's the size
We are, as we brag. We love to gloat 
Over tweezered wins which, in God's clear eyes,
Are as lasting as a firefly's flash
On a summer night. He must feel some mirth
Watching our antics, for midst all the clash
Of all the egos on our sad planet Earth
He sees through all keyholes. Share. Let Him see.
For He is the key that unlocks and sets free.  

Though this old world teeters at the abyss
I awoke today amazed by seeing
I still could feel a modest sort of bliss;
Still could accept a sense of well-being.
Lord, greater than enormity are You;
More kingly than kings; Freer than the free;
And yet, though all these vast things may be true
You still have time for little men like me.
We mortals divide the great from the small
but You scorn such distinction: A widow's
Small coin means more than money bags.Through all
Mankind You seek the soil where love grows
And when its found men wake from their dreams
Like brilliant dust in a dawn's first beams.