Sonnet CCXXVI

I wonder why I stare so often at the sky…
perhaps I am afloat in buoyant vanity,
a narcissus suspended in its shiny sea.
So distant in the mirror of reflective sky,
curvetting dreams and thoughts surround my sullen eye,
the pettifoggery of clouds enshrouding me.
Or if I seek my blazoned image in the sun,
I’m blinded by my folly, made to mutely sigh.

In patterns unbeknownst to me, I see a star,
or flower, dissonant in beauty, wise afar.

Reflective, do the skies reflect my pensive scheme?
Or do I only wish to see the world as clear?
I wish for comprehension, see the saltus near –
and lose it, plunging through oblivion, to dream.