The Deepest, Fullest Bow
The bow becomes a fugue in colors swerved
And woven deeper than the color wheel.
The bow becomes a ballerina curved
But stoops so low the swaying starts to kneel.
Obeisance is required in reverence
Before the altar. Holiness requires
That unity refuses severance.
The cosmos stipulates one angel choir
Made up of many voices but just one.
This one will be the melody and all
The harmony, the moon and stars sun
That coalesce and form into a ball
Of concentrated utterness. The bow
Will bring together wholeness like Christ’s vow.