My Friend, A Woman of Faith
Poetry by Peter Menkin

A Spiritual And Inspirational Poem from All-Creatures.org

That old and evil death, thy sting, comes to the
conversation with my friend, 85 years who
as a woman is widow, and of sorrows.
Living longer on medicine and strength of will,
the ones nearing the end of life are her companions.
Hold my hand, let us speak.

So the talk turns to life after death:
heavenward heaven.
The trumpets play all the time, angels sing and
worship God in a court of ecstasy where the conscious
mind is aware of our soul basking in glory like a single
star among infinite galaxies, a sun ever burning hymn,
pure illumination this constant harmony.
Our tears are wiped away and we weep no more,
nor-travail or labor having run the race of
life in preparation for infinite engaging love,
serene magnitude ever.

Uncountable the sum of young promise uplifted
to soar--in ascension to unity, knowing the unknowable with indivisible essence tangible.

This is heavens way, do you think, tell me of passing
over to God. We talk some more, she wanting to
come forward to the sacraments again.

Musical notes, language of peace:

This love a comfort, a white light drawing us to embraces.
Place of rest, quiet, You set a table before me Lord,
though I walk through the shadow of death I fear no evil.
Comfort me, comfort me.

Walk with me in this valley, she asks.
I do, I will, I say.
Grateful. Grateful. Grateful.