Standing alone on a hillside,

staring at midnight sky,

wishing I had

a place to go

the moment after I die.

That wishing morphs

to a “hope there is”,

that hoping, to a faith…

and with that faith,

Heavens golden walls and diamond spires

begin to rise!

With that faith for mortar,

the pearly gates stand open, wide.

While, with the substance of the Promised Land

solid beneath my feet,

I run to my eternal home,

holding an Angels hand.

Father’s waiting,

patient, smiling.

Gabriel directs the holy band.