Prayer for last things

I pray it will be easy. I pray it will
be swift. I pray, before the window

shade drops, for the most lucid light
there is; for there to be a strong,

hot wind from the sea. I pray the mouth
released from its feverish workings,

the eye clear-washed of all its salt
and stings. I pray the hands applied

to touch, then recognition of a face.
I pray at the last utterance of love,

the void fills up with gold as if
for burning, before the flood.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Sea wind.

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