The stairs, the stars

I will want my eyes open if I can,
when it happens.
Don’t stay
if it’s too hard.
But if you do,
you might see,
in my dry eyes,
a struggle of the soul.
A sea-change,
as I watch the silver sun,
and all that’s earthly folds its book.
For I’ve already peeked at the show,
And I know.