Knocking At The Door

Knocking At The Door
(I was sitting waiting on hold on the phone when this came to mind).

Death is lingering outside my door
Waiting for me to let him in.
I whisper, shaking behind the barricaded I have built, saying,
“I am not ready.”
A gentle voice caresses my ear, like a gentle breeze, saying,
I will wait my dear until your fears subside-
Open the door, dear child, I mean you no harm
Your time is near and we need to talk
We will talk of things to come  
and
the valley of peace and beauty.
The valley you will enter is a garden so much like your own-
The beautiful
Garden of Serenity.
This peaceful place will surround you like a
warm and gracious melody-
Melting
over you with the
succulent flavor of rare ecstasy.
The fear, the pain, will be no more.
Yes!
Death is lingering outside my door.
A crack in the door, just a peek.
Their HE is in all His glory.
Come! Child!
Take my hand.

Bonnie J.
June 30,2007