Just in case the worry-heavy world
Should cast a final backward glance
To whimper at what might have been
Before the horror of trumpets
Blown by indifferent angels
Burns and hails and turns to blood
The bone of breath of form
And I am not this
And you are not that
An 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 each other's prayers;
Just in case
I don't see you tomorrow
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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