On

Gateway

Leaves

Death is a gateway
We all must pass through,
To reach the fair land
Where the soulís born anew.

For manís born to die,
And his sojourn on earth,
Is a short span of years
Beginning with birth.

Flowers

And like Pilgrims we wander,
Until death takes our hand,
And we start on the journey
To Godís Promised Land.

A place where weíll find
No suffering or tears,
Where time is not counted
In days, months, or years.

Flowers

And in that fair city
That God has prepared,
Are unending joys
To be happily shared
With all of our loved one's
Who patiently wait,
On deathís other side
To open the gate.

~ Helen Steiner Rice ~



Original music from Margi Harrell
Used with Permission



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