Returning Home

Morning's first voice

cracked from sleep's husk

repeats itself, a practiced drum,

return home, return home.

The sun's large body rising

from its West-laid berth, faithful

like a daughter recites her prayer,

return home, return home.

God's sanctuary, its promise
removes us from our earthly home

then destroys it completely;  only

splinters of its lumber remain.

An oath or prodigal forgiveness

seduces heretics to longing, grants
mercy to the exiled briefly, then

buries them in tombs.