Standing strong with the trees
My feet firmly planted
United with nature
With a soul that is haunted
My branches turn
Underground
No longer reaching up
Seeking to return my body
To dust, to dust, to dust
*
Finding my place
In a new world
Will there be sunshine
And trees?
No more sorrow
No pain or disease
It is the final home
I wonder how it must be
The final resting place
With Christ eternally
*
To reach the final home
Must be remarkable indeed
Beauty beyond anything
The eye has yet to see
To compare to the sunset
Stretching across the sea
Or the view from the mountaintop
With its meadows, foothills and valleys
*
My soul may feel haunted
My branches may turn in weakness
I am only human, but soon I will
Feel completeness
Renee Robinson
http://journalofapilgrim.files.wordpress.com
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