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Selma Cook

Death is something we all fear but it is surely a reality. When and how it comes, we never know.

 Here I am at last
I knew this day would come
My new home for a time
'til the trumpet shall blow
and once again I stand
upon an earth renewed

Dark and still
I wait
Time has gone
Asking my lord for refuge
As I did in days gone by

The call will go on
Long after I've gone
What did I leave behind?
Was I a carrier of light or a player of dreams?

Whose feet walk above me now?
Where do they go? From whence do they come?
Do they carry on the work
Or waste themselves in illusions?
Death, the doorway is ever near

Do they not think of the day?
They shall be like me
Locked in a tomb
Awaiting life
The life that never ends?

 

 

Poetry