Crisp blue sky on this late autumn day,
The high holidays have arrived once more
We step into a new year, hands full
Of hope, of longing, and the weight of despair

The sorrows of last year cling to our skin,
Like open wounds that ache with the memory of violence
But now—now, we seek to wash them clean,
To bathe in the quiet peace of this bold, blue sky

Let nature cradle us in its tender arms,
Mending the cracks where we need to heal,
Offering a hope too deep for words
And bringing us back to a God
Who welcomes us, as She always has,
Her embrace patient and full of grace