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At The Death Of Lazarus The Beggar, 1
[after Luke 16]
The sound of forceful wings is like a wind.
The hour has come. No time is left to beg:
no more the slow, hard days without a leg
to stand on; and no more feeling the pus
licked by the lapping dogs out of raw sores;
no mre derision in the rich man's snorts,
no looks of pity from his passing whores.
Death overtakes you, but no cause for fear.
Your eyes close and then open. Then appear
two angels in bright splendor, to escort
your soul. Receding flesh cannot rescind
your passage. As, brone up by them, you rise
and take your first, full glimpse of Paradise,
you hear Christ's voice say, "Welcome, Lazarus!"
