or  you,
whose tearless rage remembers
past potentials’ promise,
sweet upon the face of crying angels,
heavens part
and hells retreat,
and only as your passage takes you
will your breath find words to voice
the story of your ceaseless journey
through the Self's inviolate choice.


For only as the bird song sails
beyond the brace of budding limb
to join the faith of tender breeze
and rise as Earth's resplendent hymn,
will you become composer's note
infused of trill and harmony
to fashion each tangential chorus
and strike your own divinity.