It was getting to the point where my family and friends were dropping like cow dung in a pasture so I wrote this poem - not only for convenience to have something on hand in case I didn’t have time to get to the store, but also because I thought I could express my feelings far better than any greeting card ever could - at a cheaper rate too I might add - and all you need to do is change the gender to suit the dearly departed.
A Hand reaches out, It is not mine, the one he knew so well; It is of another.
The Hand is large and strong, And behind the Hand ——— glows an incredible light; His glowing Hand intermingles with his, And together they melt into one; Distinction is now difficult. I see him float away——blending into the light, Held steady by the Hand; Then - he looks back——smiles at me. I know now that it’s okay, And I have not to mourn for my own selfish loss; But to rejoice for his happiness. No more pain, sorrow, worry or weakness, Strength, joy and peace have replaced them; I have —— but time. To heal MY pain - and ease MY loss, I will go on —— just as he has; With life — everlasting. . . And a chance to look forward to. . .And an understanding of. .
The HAND That will someday reach out. . . For me. Marty Collins