Saturday, February 11, 2012


When we exhale our final breath
Where will we waken in our death?
Young or old, rich or poor
All must pass through the same door


If God should open up our eyes
Revealing where our treasure lies
Would we find gems that cannot rust?
Or simply trophies made of dust


We pass this way but once
Unalterable truths remain
Grace is free; and we will never
Pass this way again

© Janet Martin

We have a plot of grave-stones next to our property ...
Wow, I wonder at the life stories buried there. It is from the era of the Civil War and a decade or two after.
Did you notice how young they are?
Death is no respecter of persons~

1 comment:

  1. Very sad when one thinks of so many people taken in their youth or young adulthood. You are right, death is no respecter of persons. It comes when it does, does not ask permission.


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