rapture

ages have passed slowly he says
we’re near to a rift in the delicate fabric
between worlds

when it comes my hair will have that new-washed
shine my skin unblemished my whole self
aglow       the chosen will ascend in glory

we will be angelic       I see familial spirits
a flock of pure white doves soaring
into a wondrous sky

the sublime       the rapture
I close my eyes       my stomach
flutters        it’s unimaginable

but I can’t help trying       a great glorious
cloud sweeping over hills towards
the assembled       all praising       singing       joyous

       we will be swallowed by light

Will it be like that ? I ask
Something very like he replies