J. I. Thomas F. Poet Sonnet

The Death of Desire

Can you fault him for his lapse?
Can you chastise for her loss?
It is theirs to wish if they wish it,
it is theirs to handle as dross. 

So strange that in small part we prize,
constraining the needs of our burning eyes:
or else we are faulted for desire - 
gluttony, lust, avarice, fire!

But can't we journey to their root,
and tearing out that filthy plant,
find that need for all is gone,
and lose the will e'en to recant? 

So what is better? Keep the need in check for time,
or surrender need itself ... which leads to the sublime? 

19 September 2018

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