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Poem

In a turbulent rest I was startled
By a golden and beckoning light,
And a vision sat there by my pillow
Sobbing with all of His might.

I asked Him “Lord, why are you weeping?”
And He lifted his face to meet mine.
He told me “My child, you are dying,
And tomorrow you will be consigned”.

He bowed once again at my bedside
And softly continued to cry,
And we stayed the whole night in our stillness
‘Til the shine of the first morning light.

When I rose in my chamber I smiled
At the glorious sight of the sun.
What a beautiful gift I was given
To know my last day had begun.

I was deep in the meadow by noontime
Watching the sun glow through the leaves
Like the wind that inspires the trees to dance,
And the waves that encourage the sea. 

I heard an echo of song growing louder 
As the day slowly fell into night.
They were calling for me from the After
And I went
To my Lord, 
To the light.

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