It may be the month of soul-accounting
But I'm walking in Elul
Barely touching the ground -
I'm treading the path called 'Return'
With outspread wings and a song.
When I search my mind and heart this month,
I could, if inclined to, cry -
Not only do I sing, my song is about
My failing - my failing and moving on.
How grand is my King -
So wide the gulf between His command
And this lowly commanded thing,
You could say failure is built in.
I'm only walking on air in Elul,
But let Him send His lasting light
This year - and watch how high
This faltering dove can fly.
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