I must fly, she thought
and off she flew--
all this time, she was thinking of you.
I must away, she dreamed
of a place shiny, new
and now she has gone there...
ahead (of me) and you.
Husband--
dear one,
hold your head high,
for down the road (just a piece)
in the sweet by-and-by...
she stands waiting
alone
with arms
eager (outstretched)
and open wide...
to hug
(once again)
your sturdy,
strong
neck.
And lofty you will be,
and flying you will go
to the sweet arms of Heavenly God--
to a place, once more,
where together you will trod.
Do not weep for me,
my gentle husband.
Do not weep for us.
We will not be parted
for longer than a moment;
than a glimmer.
United again we will know
the fullness
the wonder
the glory
of a love that blooms
on heaven's boughs.
With love, dedicated to
my mother-in-law,
Barbara Jane Powell;
( June 8, 1933 to July 29, 2011.)