Oh my Good Lord, Lord of Hosts,
I look forward to the last of days.
The day when the kingdom inconceivable
and the kingdom perishing
becomes that which is not flesh
and that which is not flesh
The things intangible
we will hold in our hands
and the things passing
we will behold in eternity
Lord, I yearn to see these things
Will these walls point ever upward
without drooping under its own weight?
Will these city streets remain unblemished
as they do in the dreams of the geometer?
Will these trees stand with upright dignity,
as they do in the dreams of the architect?
Will these wooded acres become like home,
as they have in the dreams of the learned one?
The learned one, Lord-
the one who reclines in his study
over wooden floor tiles,
between plastered walls,
dreaming to become one with the Garden once more.
All these things that men suppose they know now,
will they truly know in these days?
Lord, Lord; have mercy on me
Let these days be near
Let the light of dawn shine upon me
Until heaven and earth perish, Lord,
these questions will not find life;
they will lay dead
as questions unanswered.
The truth will hover beyond my reach
even if it stands before my face
My eyes will not see, and my ears will not hear
My Lord, you bring sight to the blind
Do not leave me in the black.