The Days Are Filled

When the woods get big
They attract all kinds of birds.
You could tell me you have
No guilt as long as I have

No innocence, or
That I have no guilt
So long as you have
No innocence?

Will the divine ghost
Of eternity preserve the whisper
And enshrine rhetorical guesses?

Will the divine ghost
Of eternity forgive the transgressors
Or those they transgressed against?

Is there a divine ghost
Even of the just-past moment
And can that ghost ever guess?

The woods will get big
Someday once again
And be more full of birds than
Ever was raw New Zealand.