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A poem death where is your sting?

 
 
Reply Sun 28 May, 2017 08:34 am
 

Poems by Alan McDougall 15/2/2007
 


 (Alan “the thinker”)
 
Sunninghill
 
Lord will we live again my poem to you (Alan McDougall 2001)
 
as I approach the infinite long dark night
I resist it and resist it with all my might
I try and try to comprehend this end
to which all men must descend
 
is it a sleep that all must take?
or is it an eternal end that all must make?
I like to dream of awakening in light not dark
in a beautiful place to which all righteous men depart
 
do we sleep the sleep of forever?
or do we awake some other place together?
does the answer to this ultimate question
remain forever a process of eternal redemption?
 
on one glorious day from timeless sleep I awoke
and heard a beautiful and kind voice that sweetly spoke
my faithful son at last you have became to understand
exactly your place in this troubled land
 
you my beloved have truly never ceased to seek
the infinite destiny that in eternity for you I keep
so for you and your family no eternal death awaits
because of your zeal to know your fate
 
soon I will bring you all to this most holy place
and there I will you never forsake
very soon, you shall hear a sweet call in the dark of night
come, come into the holy glory of the father spirit of mighty might
  
I walk in the cool of evening along sweet meadows I have never seen
I smell the beauty of grasses that have never been
strange golden streams of crystal waterfowls
as blue glory of mighty skies above glows
 
 I search the long forgotten memories in the attic of my mind
along the twisted channels the very depth soul that I could not find
I see before me things so wonderful I knew from long ago
I puzzle over the enigma of knowing what I do not know
 
out there far beyond the knowledge of any man is revealed
something of such great mystery to it my heart had appealed
why have I on this one thing so many years stalled?
is this infinite knowledge from many man would be appalled?
 
walking on through the shade of great trees that give eternal life
I hear the sweet forgotten voice that comes to free all from everlasting strife
high green new grasses in this new do land grow
as transparent waters chuckle dance, sparkle, and flow
 
Alan (composed 16/2/2005)
 
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