Ives Michael Rasmussen 1892-1919

Ives Michael Rasmussen 1892-1919 So, there you are, my friends, And here I am, resting, nodding off, in the cool dirt, Of shady and forgotten Mt. Olive Cemetery. There are many of us here, sleeping, and waiting, As you are sleeping and waiting, up there, Above the grass, and the old mossy tombstones. We all know now what life meant, We all know now that life was a serious matter indeed. We all found out that every person must make a choice, The choice of eternity… here, where we are. We the dead know now, that life was just a test, A simple test with an easy answer. But I am dead now, and so, don’t ask me. The truth must come from him, the Master, For I am nothing, absolutely nothing, Just dust and atoms lying askew, here in the dark, Of shady and forgotten Mt. Olive Cemetery. So, there you are, my friends, And here I am, waiting for the final trumpet peal. Waiting for something no one can possibly imagine, I am waiting for my savior to open up the big skydoor, And I am waiting for the tremulous toppling, Of these old mossy tombstones.