Death Be Not Death

by e. GENE MYERS

Death be but the morning mist
trapped in nature’s gray.
Between this life and heaven’s glory,
I need but find the way.

Why is it I have no fear
of death or what it brings?
I long the peace in heaven’s light
and the songs the angels sing.

I long the bubbling, singing springs,
to find the rainbow’s end,
but what I miss the most in life
are the souls that always blend.

I miss the sweet, harmonious life
I knew before I came,
to live upon this troubled earth
and first received my name.

I miss the travel through the stars;
the wisdom from God’s own book.
I miss His loving companionship.
I miss His silver brook.

I know that I should never push
this life to end its day,
but fear of death is not for me,
t’is the start of heaven’s play.

Death be but a teardrop falling
in this moment  known as time.
When the teardrop falls, I’ll be ready,
set free with the death-bell’s chime.