The Doorway

I was told a sad but true comment.  With an old person dies,

few come to the funeral as few friends are usually left.  This 

struck me hard until an image came forth which I must share.

It was a day of reckoning,

When silence carries words,

Beneath the trees I came,

To this place of rest the same,

Beside the sleeping blood,

To convey all I had heard.

Beside this resting heart,

I watched a closing book,

A young life reached an end,

Surrounded by black cloth friends,

While words of comfort caressed,

From pages of the one true book.

The doorway opened,

Beneath the sun,

Homecoming called,

A heart did come,

With chapter closing,

One has begun,

The story is never done.

To my left another story,

In shades of solitude,

She stood there in service,

In lonely aged gray,

All friends gone before them,

Only she was left today,

At her feet was soul’s reflection,

In her soulmate’s closed eyes.

I blinked upon this image,

And another flashed before,

I thought I saw a joyful crowd,

And closed to see it clearly,

Drowning out illusion dreary,

The friends surrounded open arms,

To welcome a young man home.

No one will be alone.

The doorway opened,

Beneath the sun,

Homecoming called,

A heart did come,

With chapter closing,

One has begun,

The story is never done.

God touched his light below,

Bathing widowed heart,

Bestowing grace and peace,

As the young man smiled and wept,

With faces long unseen,

And joy consumed in love,

As in the great reunion,

One turned and came to me.

He ran to me with joy,

Arms of love extended,

Then came to sudden stop,

With astonishment expression,

Before rejoining with the crowd,

As the light grew bright and loud,

And I found lying there,

Was awakened with a touch.

The doorway opens,

No story can end,

With song around us,

We are the words,

Love is the music,

Life’s battle run,

Victory is won.