"Listen, 'Old One'": A Sonnet (4/12/23)

You look at me, deriding me behind

Your darkened, thorny mask of "wisdom true,"

You say I need to change, to fix my mind,

And form my expectations to fit you.

You say, "Romantic love is for the young,

You'll see, when you and her are great in years,

Affection is for the immature tongue,

Don't bother me with deep devotion tears."

Yet then I look at she who claims your name,

Her weirdly look at you, as then you speak,

She wishes your tears fell on her the same,

And longs to hear you take the stance of meek.

I pray for you, together, of your love,

That it will rest on Him we call the Dove.