When

When

Henry Lewis

When we have died,
and arms long empty of our memories,
reach to know love’s pure and sacred touch,
and to embrace a long sought, long anticipated place,

when we have gone the way of all the earth,
gone down, our spirits rising, ascending to some celestial space,
gone now away into such searing tranquil light,
the deep abiding radiance of a One we know and love exceeding,

when we have died and gone,
and shed our temporal frame for some much finer thing,
a raiment made of our euphoric song displayed in ever present light,
a garment of our heart filled praise that never ever never ends,

when we have gone the way of all the earth,
and pain and sorrow are no more, not seen or heard or found,
no more the discontent of place or time or any lesser haste,
but only One whose love transcends our harsh and wearied days,

when we have died and gone and fallen fast asleep,
and found the settled light and our so much a sweeter sacral rest,
forever held in caring arms, yes, held now everlasting in a wonder of it all,
then we have not gone down empty, we have not died alone.

---

Henry Lewis
Writer

Henry is a poet, novelist, and essayist living in the Minneapolis area with his lovely wife. He is a dawn-watcher, a night-sky-gazer, and a sojourner in a strange land. His work has appeared in Veritas Journal, Ekstasis Magazine, Story Warren and others. He has self-published two nonfiction books and frequently publishes essays on his substack A Curious Light.

Painting by Remigius Adrianus van Haanen (Dutch, 1812-1894)