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The Early Morning Bloom Has Opened Up
Death has ushered me into a new Home—
The Bloom has opened—wide—
No Chamber here for sorrow—
But endless Rooms—inside—
A quiet hush of Petals—
Unfurl upon the Air—
As if the Soul were Gardened—
By Hands divinely fair.
The Walls are made of Silence—
Yet Music drifts between—
An unseen Choir attending—
What once the Grave had seen.
I lay my old attire—
Upon the Dust below—
And walk into the Meadow—
Where the everlasting—grows.
The Bloom has opened—fully—
And bids me—enter so—
Goodnight to all my family --
I can now release my soul.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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