Those Steps - Sonnet

Some days are empty to the beating hearts
Upon the nights of mirror procession
Where every flow in struggling still starts
From what there falls in fiery concession
The hours of plumage will be valiant day
When on to memory they unsubmerged
And gave their earth to the building of clay
That living and working from each converged

The days you wing again to higher flight
From the withered hours of doings done before
And reach those numbers unfaltering height
In breaking new billows to make ashore
Those steps unyielding to reach out and find
And leave old broken somewhere behind

Vanity

Not every day is true
With hope in morning
Embracing all the new
That to awake is turning
Not falling to hollow
With windows of time be
Shaping me to follow
For what becomes free

So much is at its task
Going the same way
And nothing there to ask
In its truth and play
In each current that run
Like bereft of blossom
Embraced in gloom sun
Where its days are from

Not every day is blush
Of burning bright and clear
Some rain might in rush
And fall by footsteps near
For much is vanity
That men and women do
In its times brevity
For both of me and you

Closed Doors - Sonnet

Closed doors of the times from the within
That each aspect is turning and giving
Oceans of deep in its waves and spin
Opportunities in days of living
Flowing ongoing of everyone's fate's realm
Where their roads cross the ways of new context
The forces or numbers that overwhelm
Puzzled doubt of its uncertainty perplexed
Breast against thorns that always are hurting
Suffering pain of its sorrowing bring
The grieves and the troubles comforting
When hours in loneliness gray mornings sing
The blossoms of clouds darkish coexistence
When friction of ways turn their contrivance