Before Rest

The closer we are to the other world,

 (The places where this life wears thin

and we can almost see over:  birth, death;)

-The more often we remember:

We were not meant to make a permanent dwelling

of these ragged tents.

-The harder to be content here

And not long for the next one already.

(In patience we possess our souls

Mine so quickly wants to fly away…)

Life can be a ragged, holding on to the tail of moderation,

Breathing hard to pace, mentally, this marathon

with patience.

A tamping down the jumping out of the insides,

Invisible.

A gradual tread, tread, tread

Away from the thin places

on to the rest of the commission

before rest.