If we are to dip our toe in the everlasting
it will be like the seagull who emerges
from the oil
to shake the slick from her feathers
It will be like her going back for more,
saying, “What were we thinking?” and knowing
It will be like sinking.
Then someday we’ll rise from it,
as if from a chattering subway
into an empty station,
to hear God himself
whisper our name.