I know how to write a sonnet.
I’ve written many before
But I’m not going write one now.
That’s not against the law.
I’d much rather write a ballad
Or a poem that’s free of all form.
I was writing pictorial poems
Even before I was born.
I hummed before I heard words.
I needed no metre or rhyme.
I was given a gift that’s divine.
the morning is gloomy and overcast
the weather forecast says it won’t last
but that voice on the radio sounds kind of dead
it might only be the state of my head
the day may improve when there’s more light
I was tossing and turning in dreams all last night
I forgot to turn the clocks forward an hour
outside the window primroses and daffodils flower
a ray of light is hiding from sight
a swallow appears in high looping flight
amassed clouds take on a fine luminescence
the sun breaks through, a glorified essence
a bright golden glow bursts through the gloom
a shaft, a sunbeam breaks into my room
I’m bathed in bright sunshine the room can’t confine
I feel uplifting joy, amazing, divine
burning and turning my heart is a choir
singing with joy and celestial fire
spinning and whirling, breaking free and ecstatic
knowing my moods are often erratic
the shadows have broken and I’m still alive
the sun has arrived
© A.Chakir 2023
The Dreaming Path 