The Grave

Sorrow does the grave not know nor bitterness or greed In the darkness of the grave lies no fear or inequality The grave knows not of cloudy days nor humid moonlit summer nights or the way the bluejays sang to me nor the way my child gazed at me And little does it know at all of passageways through heavens door The grave is but a benefactor offering sweet clemency Restoring my soul from transgressions of the world above Easing the encumbrance of my mind The grave surely is a friend to me Craddeling me far below the springtime daffodils never disappointing me nor leaving me behind