I view a tree a distance high,
Like birds translucent leaves do fly,
And golden fields that softly wave,
It calls the fearful, lonely brave,
This home for all it beckons come,
And calling all with silent drum,
The beating like a heartbeat rolls,
A distant bell in steeple tolls.
And those who hear the heavenly call,
Are torn between the love of all-
Who knew them when they were on earth,
While striving for their new found birth.
They hear the tears of anguishment,
And see the bitter languishment,
Yet know they’re drawn to outer light,
As they soar up toward heaven bright.
But, earthly work is yet undone,
A final task and only one,
To whisper words of care above,
“We’ll be here still with care and love.”
Peter Lowell Paulson
May 6, 2011
No comments:
Post a Comment