Manifesting the principle that we need to be flexible, I started an hour or so ago to write about my battle of quietism and ended up with this instead! A Petrarchan sonnet for your consideration.
Conversion
Will this poor man surrender will to God
As urgent plea within his heart contends?
No desperation vast before him ends,
He has not come to truth by which he’s awed.
For many days and years this man has trod
against all effort, though ev’ry prayer commends.
Yet, soul, depraved, to ev’ry sin he bends
And kicks and screams against th’ eternal rod.
Have hope! This child does yet move in God’s grace
And Mercy! His most holy will enfolds
The awe-filled man embracing liberty!
He recognizes wherein ends the race
Heroic now his actions will be bold
Because he binds his will to actions free.
Comments are welcome! This is the first sonnet I've written since high school, so please let me know your thoughts. So far, I've received very little real criticism. An artist needs to know what to improve, so please feel free to share your thoughts!
Follow me on Twitter: @thegoodstate
God bless!
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