Sonnet XV: Oil Painting
A variation of Sonnet XIV, but with an oil painting metaphor.
The storm clouds part to let your radiance through
Calling end to all my blind ship-steering
I lift my chin, my eyes guide me, leading
To your gazing moonstones of twilight blue
My hours be bathed in this diff'rent light
No longer dry as was my faint yearning
And nevermore in each visit searching
Be clothed in darkness of your not-in-sight
The night skies of whispering emptiness
Washed away by your inspiring splendor
Painted majestic with sun-kissed colors
Of the stars within your drowning brightness
Framed and hangs but in lonely memory
Bound to mere longing for what my eyes see