In wilderness I am surrounded by company I cannot lay eye upon;
I am a living stone often with the feeling of being alone,
yet I am set near the corner somewhere
in a foundation that stretches farther than I can see.
The mortar of men is shattering and crumbling,
dust blows in the winds of revolution
and reformation whispers from places where being alone
is a dark reality.
Winds will blow and waters cover like a flood,
destroying modern marvels, and bursting ballooning levies;
though now it creeps and crawls as it turns,
the paradigm will shift; realities will crash,
yet the foundation will remain;
loneliness will then be a non-entity;
then I will be your priest and you will be mine and she will be his,
and we will all be surrounded by a company we can finally see.