Death I do not mind,
Nor the beloved’s loss,
Nor loss of self poets find
So hard to loose. I cross
Space on a flying track.
One thing I want, want only;
One thing only I lack,
For one lack am I lonely.
God I want before I cease
In the reality of dying-
Now the mind can only tease
And the soul start lying.
Our frail selves and feeling,
That smoke of soul-
This is too perilous strange to roll
On the sky-ceiling,
In dust of a fine, thin, sheer
Unfolding matter;
We have built too unstable, too near
Mutation, now, to shatter
Into a wind on a shale of dim
Unpeopled suns.
God I want, who would keep
This essenced sense.
We have built too unstable, too near
Mutation, now, to shatter
Back into something less near,
Into less troubled matter,
Except God keep what is good
And final in this;
Except our relative blood
Be remembered in His.
God I want, who would keep
My intangible gain
Against a need for sleep
And recoil from pain.
So much have I hoarded and stored,
Wisdom so fine and concise;
Will it go back to the Sword
Of Lightning on Ice?
Be made void-as abstract
As Rock, Fire or Dew,
And be no longer the fierce Fact
The Destructible knew?
I have made it for Him
Who is sum of all being;
I, neither humble, nor grim,
Nor believing, nor seeing,
Nor taking brave attitudes now,
The stoic, the sad-
All these, the make-shifts, how
Long I have had!
And now I say I rebel
From the dying that looses
As if it were nothing real,
The soul that life uses.
Only I say I rebel
From the loss of that dying
And life as a little spell
To the sound of fierce crying.
Only I say there should be
God who would cherish
The intricate stuff we
Spin while we perish.
Death I do not mind,
Nor the beloved’s loss,
Nor loss of self poets find
So hard to loose. I cross
Space on a flying track.
One thing I want, want only.
One thing only I lack.
For one lack am I lonely.
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