If I Die Before I Wake

If I die before I wake,

I would send you a love note from the light.

Not a tunnel,

but a space without edge,

without name.

It would pour over you in drops beyond language,

cleansing the need for words,

for signs,

leaving only shimmers of sound.

Sounds not of sorrow,

but of joy

spilling from your eyes,

like fountains in the courtyards of gods,

thunderous,

and still.

There, beauty collapses thought.

Love moves through wind and moan,

through murmurings older than time.

From that place,

I would press you gently past your pauses,

past the slow leak of your allotted breaths -

into the rest you have always avoided.

And I would only have begun.

For love moves behind veil after veil,

until the duel with your thoughts falls silent,

and you too are called

to die

before waking.

~ David Ault