You know I long for the day when I will
dissolve into the luminous Truth.
The shape of my once-was body
will be pressed against a star
— a family reunion.
My breast plate will explode and mingle with helium and gratitude.

A Star, knowing itself.

You know what I long for.
All that.

But not anymore than I want to make you breakfast,
to make Sunday last this whole life,
to visit snow and hold hands with mittens on,
even more aware of how our muscles just want to
dissolve the layers
and pull each other in
almost all of the time.

I will touch your feet and be doing my work in the world.

You are worth waiting for,
tall beam of Light.
And I will open the door for you like our lives depend on it.