Sonnet of Private Musings Whilst Center Stage

All the stars align even now unseen

From paradise we come, and back we go

This storm obscures vision while washing clean

But after the storm seed of hope will grow

Even within, the tree of life takes root

I count every pocket shared a blessing

Dirt churns and earth quakes before bearing fruit

Still there are details that bear addressing

I would not have you blush at every rose

Would you have my heat rise at snow's glisten?

These days obscure such precise ebbs and flows

So crowd may stay but not see or listen

Farmers tending crops and dreaming in beds

Their own journals, not ours, filling their heads