Within a Desert Lamp of Gold

When the world folds

I will hold

All the stories that have been told

From time to time and place to place,

Within a desert lamp of gold.

When all the oceans,

Dried before the blazing sun,

Cease to swell and crash upon

The beaches to the north and south

Of the central line of earth.

When the evening breeze no longer blows

And the nightingales no longer throw

Their voices up into the sky.

And the night-sounds of wildlife

No longer fill the air.

When every breath of life is gone

And no more souls echo out into

The heavens, I will hold

All the stories that have been told

Within a desert lamp of gold.