God’s Lament At The Death Of Man
While I sleep. While I dream of them. The laughter and sorrow. Their souls sing out at life. I love them. They love no more. Cold in my solitude. The silence crushes me. Despair rends me. I am abandoned. I am defeated. I am complete.
I am darkness. Their light is gone. Their thoughts are not with me. They have gone. I am alone. Loneliness scourges me. I am renewed. I am complete.
From the darkness I create them. From the dust I mold them. Their souls become me. Their love fills me. I am one. I am complete.
I walk with them. I hold them. At their table I sup. In the dust I sleep. The dust they become. Born and died. They are me. I am them. I am complete.
I sleep. I dream. Love sings to me. Love comforts me. Love holds me. I am one. I am them. I am complete.
Time undoes them. Time stalks them. It consumes them. Time is death. It lurks and swoops at them. Time taunts
them. I love them. I know not time. I am complete.
"Dies Irae," sung at Masses for the dead.
Dies irae, dies illa,
solvet saeculum in favilla,
teste David cum Sibylla.
That day of wrath, that dreadful day,
shall heaven and earth in ashes lay,
as David and the Sibyl say.
Sibyl 2009