When I breathe my last breath, I pray Jesus carries me home.
On distant shores, I here him speak in parable and poem.
"I am the way, truth and life" He says as I fall, rendered mute and dumb
I ponder: "Why am I allowed in glory when my sin made me so numb?"
I was there, mocking the dying Christ by my foolish, unwise choices.
Yet, despite that; His death covers my sins and turns tears of pain to rejoices.
When I close my eyes for the last time, Oh Lord I do pray.
That you carry me home, where at your feet I will lay.
*Written April 26, 2013. While on vacation in Denver. Lots of free time gave me material for many poems to be published here soon*