Leave Them Bones Alone

LEAVE THEM BONES ALONE The day we die is peace to what's the soul to fly into and through the dark of space We join the love of God-- death is our goal, into the light of Him and His embrace; But as we go, one part we leave behind 'tis physical, and what we think's the end; and buried in the heap, if we've the mind, or burned and scatterred to the blowing wind! Them bones that dry won't stand the test of time; and if there's thought to be a bit of gold; the search is on, through earthly grist and grime to dig us up, so that our tale is told! The curse of time is on the diggers head; With little thought they make love to the dead. © ron wilson ©