A millennium hence the Lord tours his dominions,
Querying, probing, pondering opinions
Harvested from hearts He esteems

Well, regarding vital matters: the sprouting of seeds,
The colors of comets, the assessment of mortal deeds…
Turning then, it seems,

To consult a merry soul, He listens closely
to counsel well rooted in a lifetime of service, while mostly
All of heaven patiently lingers.

Weighing advice reverently tendered,
The Lord tarries, laughs at pithy accounts rendered
Parcel to sage fare, then fingers

Lovingly the soul, and carries on his way.
May He grant that I am there on that day.

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