It´s lived & hard worked at, this short passage we call our life,
Peppered with joy & happiness, with little pips & seeds of strife,
We are told that death is darkness, that very hot & awful place,
And we turn the other cheek, trying hard to avoid its ugly face.
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It´s death that travels to meet us, in earth-hemmed & grassy skirt,
As we tiptoe rapidly through our years, those of gold & gritty dirt,
We assume that Satan´s there, with his hot trident red & waiting,
While we daily struggle, pulling back, with life´s final breath abating.
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And when we´re deep & snug in the earth & covered up with stones,
When fleshy vehicle of life, is reduced to mere white & skeletal bones,
There shall be no pain & suffering, only the succour of peaceful sleep,
We´ll realize that while on earth, with fear, we all just lived like sheep.
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And we shall soon all come to know, that on the other side of clouds,
There shall be no pointing finger & no blaming voice so cruel & loud,
There is no burning furnace, no pitchfork & no sad Devil´s awful din,
And we shall all question & ponder, about that fearful original sin.
© Sue Lobo
Excerpt from the book âThe Last Danceâ
Visit Author Page At: http://www.ctupublishinggroup.com/sue-lobo.html
