Heaven's Sweetest Song

Heaven’s Sweetest Song


I never saw my father weep or be despondent long,

Until my mother passed away and ceased her morning song,

My mother used to sing; you’d hear small nonsense songs each day,

They could annoy, or charm, but often chased one’s fears away.


My mother was a cheerful soul with sunshine on her face,

That brightened every person in whose presence that she’d grace,

And, even as a teenaged son who wished to sleep awhile,

You’d hear her lilt; complain or groan, yet it would make you smile.


And now my father prayed each day to God in Heaven above,

That she, his wife, our mother, was now safely in His love,

And held within Christ’s promise, and his arms they would surround,

And feel no pain or fear, but only sense His grace abound.


One day my gladdened father, overcome with peace and calm,

Received an answered prayer, and assured as Gilead’s balm,

His faith was lifted; fear allayed, now earthly life would end,

For in four months he died; back to his loving wife he’d wend.


I hear my mother’s music now, for it was never gone,

My children sing it to their sons, so it continues on,

And father’s faith is shared with each a true foundation strong,

And all are carried through this life with Heaven’s sweetest song.





Peter Lowell Paulson



October 10, 2010