Sonnet 13: Pendular life

One half my life has winged since I met you.

Yet thirteen years few cycles seem to me.

From crest to trough, then trough and crest anew,

‘twixt phases two I swung in agony.

When words are carefully chosen, I compose

confession my, but lose my dare to act.

When boldness flashes, I to you disclose

my heart, yet have no word from mind t’extract.

In such repeating paths I oscillate

to seize the fleeting chance at perfect point

when wisdom and true valor do equate;

the disconnected heart and brain shall joint.

Ere time steals wit and strength and leaves me spent,

I’ll break my chains, speak, act, no more repent.

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