They will not be wearing corsages, nor waving
with excitement when I arrive,
nor will they lift me high above their heads.
They will have no hands, no throats,
there will be no talking,
no need for any of that--
they know everything, want nothing,
not even music, not even sonnets--there will be nothing
to forget, to sublimate, nothing to forgive.
They will not think about the past or what's to come.
There will only be Now,
and crowns of light rejoicing--for what, I've no idea.
But if all goes well, there will be rapture
and if not that, there will at least be peace,
there will be no cessation. 
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