Living is a powerful force that does not go quietly
Such is our affinity that it must be torn from us
It holds a value beyond measure or counting
White knuckled, we dearly grasp it in our failing fingers
Because living, however difficult, is the reality we know,
We struggle to hold on to its final vestiges;
We will exhaust all our reserves of energy.
We will spend the final moments of our life
In our fruitless efforts to remain on this side;
When we release that last thread and fall
We find that His warm hands have been there
Waiting to catch us all along;
"And it came to pass that the beggar died
and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom."
Some places, our heart knows and some other places, it doesn't
Some places, our mind knows and some other places, it doesn't
"Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief"
Before me, the door to the next life looms largely
The key will be the last thing to leave my body
Beyond the door, the reward I have chosen
For all my struggling and efforts,
I will still pass through this life to the next
I will meet that reward or recompense that I have lain away
Still, I will not hasten the day of it's arrival
Still, I will fight the fight of all flesh
Still, I will spend my last breath trying to find the next one
For living and breathing is all I have known in this life
Today, I am torn between the world I know
and the world for which I have yearned
Tomorrow may find me there.
April 6, 2007