Precious atonement. The heist of the soul. A day made
sweet like honeydew bread. You bring
out the best in us. Too much to
silent, a great figure in life, the measure of the pain. Left to the skies,
frightened of the crows, the attic is filled with promises; so quiet the storm,
so sweet the pendulum, so frantic the first wish; if new days, into northern
nights, so southern in delivery.
A day to atone, to clean slates, like the moments during jubilee; so
much misery—so grand the dance, making seconds into years—gazing into
future atonement, the goat, the sheep, the promise of deliverance. The largest
heart, arrows making for more enlargement, keep us singing! A day like none before, sanity
brought close, humility of body, mind, spirit, holiness in soul—given a sound,
a chance, something has opened—one walks in—by no other choice.
