SUNDRY SONNETS TO A CAUSE

BY

Klaus J. Gerken


(1983)


I

Would all this study lead to that
Path which, not quite now confessed,
Through elements that clear the way,
Would find the end, the purpose blessed
   With tolerance and weedless ground
And where then would no stone be found -
To gain a slightly atmosphere -
That is ... to make the future clear?
   Clear then, unto what I pray?
Will study always further proof
Of labour - like the stars the roof
   Of heaven - like a prized inlay
That one must strive to gain upon,
That in the end - "My labour's won"?


II

Such might encompassed the sonnet
So compressed thought's recreation
Not to linger, but confess
The purpose of such fascination -
   Pursued assiduously calm
In clear precise intrinsic manner -
O let us not be overzealous -
The truth is, other forms might well be jealous.
   Akin then, thus, this discipline
That fathoms nature, man and rhyme
And even speculation's prime -
   I would not think another line
Would prove a benefit to hope or form
Of a more perfect poem born.


III

My labour might well not be done
There's other tricks that must be won
Tricks of mind and memory
Holding on assiduously -
   To single out a lot of things
That each day past, the future brings -
Labour is the trick of trade
And memory its valued aid.
   I fortify myself thereby
The knowledge I possess is high
By any standard - let that be -
I well know what must yet be done 
   To thus possess, assiduously
The standard to set the crown upon!


IV

Suffice to say that love's at bay
And never you're alone
Like Venus and Adonis thought
A dream might be your home
   A dream upon an ancient mount
Olympus ever pure
From sin and any other form
Of conduct - but I'm sure...
   I have no other dream to be
Nowhere but reality -
No dream is my mythology -
   But like a mountain still unmoved
I know my road - Not yet approved
Is love to me - I am thus soothed.


V

There is in life no certainty
Except for birth and death
One moment you're a screaming babe
The net you pant for breath
   What's in-between you're ill to know
Terisias is no more -
The days like candles stand beyond
The past must be your score -
   No riddle in this mystery
   If mystery is all
   No stately purpose in this spree
   Thou knowest why you fall
The distant gate, hold thou that key
To get there, art thou sure it's free?


Copyright (c) 1983/2002 Klaus J. Gerken