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My cousin died and I projected thoughts about us together when I also will go to meet her in
Paradise. Janet Marie Bingham
Somewhere beyond the mountains,
just beyond the pass.
Somewhere beyond the mountains
where you smiled to me your last.
In Paradise, I'll meet you,
your hair of burnished gold,
sparkling like grain at harvest time.
We'll never again grow old.
There'll be no more temptation,
no more straying off the path;
there'll be no more sorrow,
for that will all be passed.
I'll meet you in the stream of life.
We'll fly beyond the clouds.
Somewhere beyond the mountains;
no one has to speak out loud.
Yet every thought we think of
we will surely know;
somewhere beyond the mountains;
on clouds as pure as snow.
Janet Marie Bingham
Copyright © Janet Bingham | Year Posted 2018
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