Should cast a final backward glance
To whimper at what might of been
Blown by indifferent angels
Burns and hails and turns to blood
The bone breath of form
And I am not this
And you are not that
And for a moment, briefly
We all weep the same tears
And forget the too-many names of God
And all the bitter, biting ways
We clip the wings of eachothers prayers;
Just in case
I dont see you tomarrow
My friend, my friend,
I'll see you again
Where we shall be healed.
I'll see you again.
--Martin Williams
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