I hope one day
To reach a point
Where instead of the existential tidal wave of despair
The most beautiful loving poetry
The most joyful thing I will state
What great immaculate joy
I’m dying….I’m dying…I’m dying
For it means I have lived
I was alive
And I will finally be able to know the language of
Sunlight filtering through trees
Salt air on my face
My daughters laugh
Gods own poetry to us in this incarnation
To one day meet the poet behind the verse.
What great joy.