If I fall asleep, and the world around
on its rails on the wheels of galaxies
clicks in the countryside of the future;
If I awaken, and the world I see
whose shimmer of light no doubt but clarity,
and pulls the sun down from out of the sky;
Then out of this repeated cycle I
must lie: ground of being not speculate
but be the same one: the one recognised.
And so, if in my daylight hours I turn
to Thee, let not the flesh's night revoke
the flesh's insight by true faith; so that
death of which sleep's the constant image may
not disturb my dusty lids death to day.