Stepping Into The Beyond Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Stepping Into The Beyond
Spluttering, sobbing, nothing mattering anymore, it's too
late for me now, not wanting to die, yet knowing it is my
fate.
Wind blowing gently across my face, touching my soul,
wanting to know if I am ready to meet the one who made me.
Questioning eyes, looking into His, reaching for His hand
and stepping into the beyond.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/24/2024 2:01:39 PM # 1.0.0.1119
