Imago Dei, the Truth that Thou art God The Truth that Thou art God, Imago Dei The image by which everyone is awed The awe which never fades nor goes away
The church will only speak with words that cost With words which you must pay for, not these words These words the church is hopeful you have lost Or chased away, like noisy little birds
But noisy little birds are more than this They do not sow, and neither do they reap And yet, they sound as if they were in bliss As if the words they’ve found are theirs to keep
So be a bird and keep these words today Tomorrow and repeat, Imago Dei.
This sonnet was submitted to an online journal and received a nearly instant rejection:
Dear Scott Ennis,
Sonnet received, but I can tell you now that it will not find a place on The Sonnet Scroll/Poetry Porch.
Do you have others that you might submit?
Joyce Wilson, Editor
How fitting, that the page is clean and white I’ll try my best to stain it carefully I don’t think it will hurt, but then it might Is pain the way to tell the words they’re free?
Dichotomous, the sonnet is a cage A prison made of fourteen bars of verse A metaphor that marks the virgin page The virgin sonnet could be something worse
Imagine if the words became a song A lyric made of thin iambic flesh A page that’s torn, that’s neither right nor wrong Within a book that functions as a creche
A virgin sonnet only til it’s read A couplet to replace the maidenhead.
