death

 

Returning home to God in peace,
undone from these bones in sweet release.
Into embrace of the supreme,
the most for which we can dream
when at last body’s breath does cease.

Like the northerly flight of geese
in spring ends winter with new lease
this end we, too, can only deem
returning home.

As our cells begin to decrease
sending us back to dust piece by piece,
a loved one’s mere memory gleam,
isn’t it all the same divine theme?
In hope, traversing eternal streets,
returning home.

©2023 Kenneth W. Arthur