Pothole

Like Saul on way to Damascus, I will rise a new creation.

And I will roam the sunset of New Heaven and New Earth.

And I will think of the way the sun used to rise and I will laugh if I am able

And the numbers we used to count with will not even register in my mind.

But I dreamed of heaven and I saw a Lab, and when I woke I beat him bloody;

I dream of spring but my hands are hot with winter.