Poemetry: Souls and Days

Both souls and days have their dawns,

eclipses and nightfalls too,

for even the dark must yawn,

wearied to a dreamer’s coo.

Out of souls and days must rise

a lambent thread of splendor,

sewing up their blotted skies

by the hands of their Mender

and Creator both, the same;

each day, each soul, is perfect knit,

disposed to heavenly frame,

and for its light alone fit.

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