Our Last Breath
No one can predict the day we will die.
Tho' we pray our last breath be exhaled in peace.
Loving hearts gathered 'round us on this day may cry
if we're blessed on this earth when our beating hearts cease.
No one can predict our day of eternal sleep.
Tho' we each hope our souls will rise, Heaven bound.
Like darkness falling on canvas, hidden colors keep
until light shines upon it, a masterpiece found.
Our souls live forever residing with love,
boldness in color and beauty, we create.
Love returning to us like raindrops from above,
we all can predict what's in our hands of fate.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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