The poem "Judgment Day" by R.S. Thomas:
Yes, that's how I was,
I know that face,
That bony figure
Without grace
Of flesh or limb;
In health happy,
Careless of the claim
Of the world's sick
Or the world's poor;
In pain craven -
Lord, breathe once more
On that sad mirror,
Let me be lost
In mist for ever
Rather than own
Such bleak reflections,
Let me go back
On my two knees
Slowly to undo
The knot of life
That was tied there.
It's so, so out of tune with the times, adopting this eschatological view of yourself, but my goodness, how I find it such healing, necessary medicine for my sin sick soul.
