may the waters rise, rise, lap at the edges of the earth. when swell, swell, and begin to wander down the streets of the capitals of the world. water, healing water, sweet water. water of strength. and then, as the masses become unglued, become angels in disguise, the waters rise, rise, until all the earth, the fields and mountains and the highest peaks of earth and men are covered. all sin and sadness and unwholeness cured, washed away by the loving tides of the immortal god. and we shall live, we shall live in this wondrous, clear water, sharper than air, a blanket made by the mother for her child on a cold winter's night. and none shall sense it, but perhaps the worthy shall know that all has changed, irrevocably, forever. a world now breathing the waters of heaven.