(A Cornish Sonnet)
What dream possesses and stays your weary heart,
with nagging persistence, that diving rod?
What constellation sets that heavenly chart?
God gives to each soul a healthy seed planted
down deep in heart's fertile soil, fertile sod
Don't be lazy, don't take your dreams for granted.
It's your garden to till, where no one impairs
no one can hinder the plan God has for you
only yourself, so release the doubts, the cares.
Brought to this moment with your talents to use
You've learned all that you need, by now it's old shoe
the dream seed must open, it's blossoms profuse.
Be not afraid when the world sets you apart
fearlessly forwarding your own heart's affair.