Wrote this just this morning.

They, In the Garden (title)

The machines worried that we might worry, 
holding us in those captive tubes
The rush and thrum and heartbeat quiver, 
the drums to distract our minds, 
breaking tempo to keep out and away
from the hypnotic

Anytime, everytime, calmness
washed back in, 
then came again the injection
of cascade ecstasy

Oh, hated ecstasy

And the deep dreaming, dreams
so deep, so inescapable
I could see my children, dressed
in bright pastels, and I missed them, 
so deeply I missed them, 
the tears

Again a rush through the veins, 
to the brain, throttling my mind, 
broke open the doors of heaven
with formaldehyde breath and smile

And gazing upon the cherubim and seraphim, 
and the joy of the choir erupting
all around us and filling our throats

Then, with shaking relief, 
we gathered in the quiet room, calm
We could not see His Visage, no; 
it came quietly, inside each of us, 
being just the same as He is, 
such that, finally, we could know

And despite the alarms and struggle, 
despite heaven disintegrating in rainbow, 
before the ecstasy could rush back in, 
we knew then, we were heading into 
suffering, the last human frontier