... eh!
itty bitty yet sufficient, only the almost that curiously still can
mitzvah to mitzvah, slow dancing with the night
element to element, heart in heart, soul through soul
weaving in witness, eternal testimony
royal signs telling times like descendents
of divine pleasure, of cleaving passion, molding sparks holy
purely, humbly into some sweet harmony
abundantly overflowing into a reality
caught by vessels coarse grained and returning
with every single one in them stringing unique keys to a treasure
like love letters falling freely from the deep deep techelet
quivering, some innocent reverberation, beautifully, endlessly truly
playing a song upon the gentle laughter
of some ancient ancient horned script
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