When people think of heaven,
They see angels and streets of gold.
But looking down the street,
I see the joy of nature unfold.
People sometimes ask themselves,
"What will you say to your maker?"
Those things I simply ask my parents,
For I know neither are a faker.
Jesus died on the Cross,
To absolve us of all our sin.
But Jesus did not have to die for me,
For in this life, I intend to win.
Is the most important man ever,
A savior or a sham?
Either way does not matter to me,
I just love my life, and who I am.
When we all pass away,
Who is to say where we will go?
And what will happen to those,
Who spend their life trying to know?
Why can not Heaven exist in the trees,
Or the smiling faces of others?
Why wait until you die to see,
When the Earth already has your sisters and brothers?
2 comments:
very touching closing lines
oh joy. a poem that really talks to me. you do "get it", don't you!!!
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