Mortal Souls
Donning my Sunday best,
I glance in the mirror—
a twinkle, a gleam in my eyes.
A special day today.
My eyes lift to the heavens,
a miracle in a way.
The stairs to the big blue sky
invitingly beckon mourners
between the hours
of never and forever,
within reach for those called home.
I tremble feebly on the first few steps,
casting a glance at the grand entrance.
Visiting hours—
around the clock.
It is a road well-travelled
for centuries,
a haven for resting souls.
Hope ignited by belief
that the Creator
keeps turning the pages
of the book of mortal souls—
coming home
to their final resting place.
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