Not In This Life Poem by David Levitas

Not in this life shall nothing remain unavenged,
The dread, the judge comes at the last.
Not in Jerusalem shall we dwell for those beyond the seas
But in a place where books and customs reign,
Where a pilgrimage can bring Hajiv but the stone remains untouched,
The bricks tell in their patched up mortar the mottled story,
The Cathedral ring its mournful telling bell
And within we peal with recollection
Through windows paned with celestial light
In the peace of prayer or the pipes of tranquility.
We are the victims of a broken tree, snapped at our conception,
Our exile from where Gabriel still holds his unleashed sword.
With guilt and humility we measure our lines;
With vain pride, our achievements, never to transgress the mean.
Our Orders they proclaim and set our bounty;
Our remissions count, our commissions accrue;
Settling in equal Charity, kindness and righteousness;
The loss and right of what in mortal error we daily amount.
Knowing thus, Frailty is but our lot,
That in the guilt lies more than wisdom, less than innocence;
That sacrifice in prayer and praise is for commemoration
And rest is granted only to the Dead;
That in Peace they may dwell and wash their sins
In the rains that only temporal, touch on Earth.