MARTHA . . . A DREAM INTO POETRY

Spring, summer, winter and fall,

     these are the seasons prepared for us all.

But when you pass through life’s short span of time,

     seasons just come in one lengthy, straight line.

There is but one spring and only one summer,

     then only one fall, with the last being winter.

For us life is lengthy, in our own mind’s time line,

     but our life, generally put simply, is one frame of time.

As my life began feeling the boundaries of age,

     my mind began slowing its pace day by day.

My health was deceiving, and I looked rather great,

     but my mind kept on saying . . . it’s getting late.

I lay down one evening, so tired was I,

     the night was so beautiful, and I closed my eyes.

I dreamt and I tossed amongst deep shades of blue,

     I wasn’t too sure what my dream was to do.

I could not determine if I were dead or alive,

     a touch of soft movement was taking me high.

I floated so freely and was bathed in soft flight,

     ‘twas like wings of a feather where holding me tight.

My flight path was upward and through the sky’s lights,

     their gleaming and twinkling was an unseeming sight.

It was like they were singing a welcome home song, 

     while they continually blinked off and on, off and on.

My pathway continued in swift upward array,

     such softness surrounded me and kept me at bay.

When all of a sudden, this gate should I see,

     just standing there open and waiting for me,

We flew through its openness and oh, what a sight,

     a place of such beauty, all brilliantly white.

My mind kept on saying, many angels are here,

     they’re bringing you home to your Lord to be near.

We flew o’er the opulence and brilliant white light;

     never had I witnessed such a beautiful sight.

The angels took over and swiftly we flew,

     to the great throne of God, with such a radiant hue.

I was with the Great Master, my tongue could not move,

     I just wanted to sing all his praises anew.

A voice started speaking, in a mysterious way;

     it held such stark beauty in all it had to say.

This voice was so soft, yet commanding in tone,

     the love that came forth just sent chills through my bones.

The message was so loving, but simple and mild,

     when he turned and said to me “Welcome my Child”.

Written by Ruth Miller for Martha

Explaining Her Dream of Heaven

May 16, 2005

©2005