Passing Over Your Virtues

To pass over in silence Is to acknowledge logic, The necessity of form, The stunning curve of language, The curious way it seems To turn out that “love” means “need” Even in a lush garden. To pass over the Red Sea Or your bounty—so long as True silence and not some tense Paralysis of the false Is achieved—then Passover Is always a charity, The painted fish in the blue Water turns to their own colors. To pass over in silence Is to acknowledge you if This chatter dissolve as it Will in the marvelous sky.