I didn’t write the sonnet assignment, the last one for Blogging University 201 Poetry. I dreamed about it. I had the perfect subject. The words resonated from somewhere into my ear. Believe me, what I spoke into my ear was splendid!
So where is it today? Please give me a few seconds, minutes, hours to contemplate and trowel through my memory center to see if I can at least uncover the perfect subject.
Here I am on Monday and no dream has recurred with the sonnet ready to write. But my muse did rise to the occasion. This is about our feeble attempts to see into the future.
Mystical powers do not divine
Magic tricks give no clue
Read my palm from your imagination
Read the cards as if they predict
Séance to consult with the dead
Who never come and cannot tell
Peer into your crystal ball
Ply the Ouija board.
These are all useless
It is for man to be born
To work, to love God
And to die.