We awake from the blessed sleep
after death’s embrace.
Here, in Heaven’s womb,
we lie, we look.
Our breath upon each other
a perfume.

We hear, in gentleness,
a sighing soothing swell of song.
We smell grass, fresh after a rain.
We stand, with lightness of mind.

We see, on the green hillside,
a throng in white.
Some turn and beckon.
Into each others eyes we smile,
then run, without flagging,
hand in hand
into a welcome of open arms.

There is lilting laughter.
then a hush of anticipation.
from the horizon’s haze we hear
the Overtures,
sung by the sinless Seraphim.

We journey long, without tiring,
for we know what awaits
at the End of Ends.