Quite far away under a plot of ground
Some old, decaying bones can there be found--
That’s all that’s left except the memories.
The days are lonely now since I don’t hear
From this departed one so close and dear,
And yet somehow I know that now he sees
His son, now trying very hard to say
Some words about his dad who’s passed away
By using now this way of eulogies:
The poems of him and his life that I write.
If I could have it closer, then I might
Go to the plot where now his body lies
And think about the day when soon we’ll be
United once again eternally
When we meet face to face up in the skies.
Yet herein lies the hope and truth I’ve found:
He really does not lie there in the ground,
And when I think of that I realize
That Dad now waits for me at heaven’s gate,
And miles of ground and earth don’t separate.