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Sonnet III: Heaven's Sill

Sonnet III:

Heaven’s Sill

©2010, Olan L. Smith       

                                                                                        

Thou often wonder whether life is vile

Or pirouetting like a carousel

Is being like an everlasting trial

Or art thou drifting dust on heaven’s sill?

I scan the beach and spy some driftwood tall,

An ashen gray and smooth erect in sand,

And do so climb it like a tree withal,

Indeed— you spy a peak so tall on land,

So― thou ascend a mountain, deep and blue—

A quiz for thy intrepidness of skills

With every muscle straining taunt and true

New testaments do dauntingly reveal

Thus what is given silently is bold.

For thine own future —‘tis unveiling gold.