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The Journey
What is it about this journey I’m not very fond of
This scary thing unknown that gives my heart a tug
Is it memories lost with time and years I can’t retrieve
Or is it slothful death or a body wretched with disease
Could it be the notion of sleeping through it all
And death has said “Hello” and eased us through the call
Or could it be those fantasies of living happily ever after
Ignoring all reality, never mindful there’s another chapter
What exactly is it about this journey I’m not very fond of
That makes me cry a tear for those I’ve chosen to love
What makes this task a struggle, unbearable to think of
Keeping me in a daze until time pushes me with a shove
Why can’t one day this sorrow be looked upon anew
With fresh new eyes as the morning greets the dew
Like the newness of the rose that slowly blooms in spring
Or like the summer heat that makes us wishful for the rain
Why can’t the inevitable be looked upon with grace
As if a handsome prince came and brushed a kiss upon my face
Or liken to a new mother shedding tears of joy in birth
Why can’t death mimic life, and not be a morbid curse
As March eases into spring and April brings forth her rain
And the earth exhales its life and everything is renewed again
Remember the precious moments that all add up to years
That extend beyond death, filling us with hope far beyond our fears.
by Donna B. Comeaux
Rewritten and Revised for
Verlender Comeaux Lee
August 28, 2013
All rights reserved
Copyright Pending
NOTE: Verlender Comeaux Lee was Glenn’s aunt (my husband). She died Sunday, August 25, 2013. Keep us in your prayers. This is the fourth funeral in two years.
Heaven
HEAVEN
Here is how I imagine it:
The grass is a luscious green, its path the roughest of gold
Angels welcome me in and applaud the victory I hold
As my feet try to touch the bottomless floor, I have questions galore
Til I lean on an angel’s arm, look up, and see there’s no floor or ceiling at all
Angels are smiling at me, bidding me “hurry, come in”
I hasten with glee before I notice my body has lost all its skin
Too distracted to sing with the others, I gaze at the beauty ‘round me
My heart so filled with awe ‘cause I’m not where I thought I’d be
The closer I get to His throne, the louder the angels do sing
As I listen closer to the hymn, it’s the one I prepared for the King
I stumble on His long purple robe, my eyes affixed on this day
An angel grabbed hold of my hand and led me the rest of the way
His wings enveloped me whole and gently he did lay me down
The songs of the angels now hushed, one pushed me and turned me around
There on the throne of my Lord, sat the King of great Kings, I adore
I lowered my head, prostrated in fear, I could look at His greatness no more
He brushed the ball of my back, and softly sat me high on His lap
Then He straightened and opened the book and read to me all of the facts
When He was done He lifted me up and pointed across the Great Room
“You,” He said, “have earned a room with a view and there is more to come
But I couldn’t let the angels escort me in, instead I fell in despair before Him
“How could you let me journey so far, I was bad and sometimes lost heart.”
“You repented,” He said softly to me, “and you bowed and surrendered your will.
See, the wicked believe in themselves. I forgive only those who prevail.”
by Donna B. Comeaux
Copyright Pending
All rights reserved