Kol Nidre

close up of fig tree leaves and branches against blue sky
We shiver under dusk’s white sleeves,
tender our voices this night
of soul breath, sighs, and vows
we can not keep.
I’ve seen skies unroll
into a vast, wide scroll.
I’ve harvested
sweet fig and tart plum
among fierce winds.
I’ve guarded the roosters
who sing out with voices
pure and broken,
roosters caged
against jackals and wild dogs
we have unleashed.
I leave my safe haven
this night of purity and sighs
to add my voice.
I‘ve forgotten, failed to act
and added to darkness.
I’ve beaten my anger
into poems.
I’ve listened and loved
but must widen my arms.
Spirit, encompass us all—
jackals, cages, frail bird song,
voices of colored shards.
The sky is open.
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