Fourteen, Twice Seven . . . and More

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary  poem  

The sonnet in its little zoom [or something like that} ~ Wordsworth

The sonnet is a chrysalis, yet you

Must open it.  The creature, winged and bright

[Click for the video→] Adult Monarch Butterfly Emerges from its Chrysalis

Inside, is waiting for your eyes, your mind, their view

To free the Monarch for its metered flight.

Those fourteen lines are more than rhyming wings,

Its rhyming legs and eyes. Those wings will bloom

Once you release them in your brain.  The zings

Will come and flutter to your heart or zoom

To pollen anthers in your skull.  The lines

May open you to hell or heaven, both

Perhaps.  The reader carefully refines.

You cultivate and welcome beauty’s growth.

  The butterfly and blossom bring you blinks

    Of understanding.  You muse brilliant links.

And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made.

And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it.

© Phillip Whidden