Sonnet

Inside a pearl I'll sit, someday, someday,

and hum and strum an ancient new-learnt tune,

imbibing wine the hue of end-of-day

through endless day, absent of sun and moon.

I'll kiss each sister, kiss her brow, exult

in faith made glory, dancing arm-in-arm

as, crossing o'er to seven choirs' tumult

her grace, by step, becomes breath-begg'ring charm.

No brother there shall pass without salute,

a clasp, embrace, a brass triumphant laugh.

Scars borne by souls unto death resolute

peel back from brazen joy, blow off as chaff.

When you arrive I'll grin and pass the skin

of hope-made-stuff, welcome our kin within.