A Sonnet on Hearing Hope

in the midst of trying to stay afloat

Last month, I shared a sonnet about the voice of the barred owl. Today, I continue and end that theme with the sonnet below.

When I heard the barred owl in my backyard at the end of October, it was singing its mating call. I had never heard it before - it was different from its usual “who cooks for you all” call. And, I was pretty confident it was the barred owl, but checked the Merlin bird app anyway to make sure, and my thoughts were confirmed.

As I’ve been struggling a lot with loneliness lately, and with virtually no one in my life reaching out and taking time to ask me how I’m doing - really doing - I have felt that hearing the barred owl’s mating call has been God’s way of saying “I’m here. I’m calling out to you. I want you to come to me, and I want to hear all about how you’re doing.”

My back porch, where I go sometimes when I need a quiet place (when it’s not being used for an art or robotics project by the kiddos). Or, where I go to hear the owls sing.

Sonnet 2.XVI - Barred Owl’s Call of Hope

Awake at five, my mind is fog and slow.
   I sit on edge of couch, my bed these days,
   that cradles me, hugs me, beside, below,
   like mother’s womb, arms, the comfort of babes.
The dim light from kitchen mirrors my brain
   and the cold darkness outside pushes down
   like thoughts of the coming, drudging workday
   at the school, where I fear I might drown.
The kids are awake, too, shuffling around, 
   eating breakfast, unaware of the calls
   I suddenly hear. The baritone sound
   is faint, but cuts through my fog, and thin walls.
It beckons me out. I pause to hear notes,
   the crooning owl’s song tapering with hope.

---

Readers, over the past couple of months, I’ve been scheming in my mind about ending this current series of sonnets in order to move on to a different poem form, and with that, a different subject focus. With this scheming, I’ve decided that this will be the last sonnet of this current series with its specific focus on flora and fauna in nature.

With the conclusion of this series, I plan to edit most of the sonnets I’ve written, format them into a physical book, and make the collection available for purchase. But before I do such, I want to make sure this is something you’d be as excited about as I am. Your input is valuable to me, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Here are some questions I’d like you to weigh in on:

1. Would you be interested in purchasing a physical collection of my sonnets?

2. What features would make the book more appealing? (For example: exclusive poems, personal notes about each sonnet, or little illustrations/decorative flourishes here and there?)

3. Would you prefer a hardcover or paperback?

4. What price range feels reasonable for a book like this? (It would be something like 30 or so sonnets, and maybe some extra content.)

You can share your thoughts on the above by leaving a comment below. Or you can email me directly at author@saraoyela.com (or hit reply to this, if you are reading via your email.)

This project is still in its early stages, but your feedback will guide me as I decide how to make this collection meaningful.

Thank you for being part of this journey—I’m so grateful for your support and encouragement.