#51 from the I Ching Sonnet Project
The lightning can illuminate my soul
Or just as well incinerate my will;
The current of a raging surf can thrill
Or crash and leave me dead upon a shole.
I never voluntarily would choose
To shock my senses with a rude insult
But choice is governed by sources occult…
And if I flag, or stubbornly refuse
To learn when gentler messages appear,
A greater power flexes, to make clear
A fate as beauteous as it is austere.
I run with every muscle bursting strong
I yield my body to the sea, headlong—
The icy waves shake free my primal song.