24 Mar 2017 – Sonnet

This mount is tired, both life and death astride –
they struggle for the reins, and what a fight –
where failing flesh and will of iron collide –
as we keep vigil here, throughout the night.
Who comes here on negotiated terms
worked out before the caravan arrives?
And what fool stands and arrogantly affirms
he signs his shipping manifest? He lies!
And what do I know, kneeling here in prayer?
What does a wise men seek at Heaven’s door?
Her pain exchanged for grief we then will bear,
the strength to offer ‘thank you’ – nothing more?
Content I am to wait, for this is right.
She struggles still, but I have ceased to fight.