|You cannot be the person you might wish,
Opening the door to who you are.
Morning comes alike to fowl and fish,
Kindled by a mystery from afar.
In you there is a music all your own
Pouring through the sluices of your heart,
Passionate with love as you atone,
Unmoored from self by ritual and art,
Restored to some bright whole not yours alone.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon