This empty shell
Was just the vessel
For a vibrant life
Well lived
It does not house the soul
Which heavenward bade
And like the balloons
We let fly
Burst into upper echalons
Of yonder vision
Which one day we may also
Pass through
And see the pastures green and new
And there the weary breast is comforted
Until it too must leave God’s wings
Like all God’s creation
Must grow, move on
And start again


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