After-life began before
the passing through the tombstone Door.
The Way, The Truth–eternal Word
above the sky without a bird;
not yet rain, no field nor flower,
timeless flow beyond an hour,
saved and sealed upon the Cross
to write it down, erase the loss.
Death: a momentary sleep,
this thing that happens makes us weep,
But opened eyes will shed no tear
(angels whisper “Do not fear”)!
Man and woman garden-bound,
once were lost, but always found.
Forever started when it ended
(the loop of tiqvah time is mended).
Mortal sight into a glass:
we only see it come to pass.
But as we’ve noted, “Love just was!”
It hasn’t happened; that’s because
it’s always been and ever shall:
this serenade, a pure chorale,
of resurrection constantly,
an Easter gift for you, for me.
“Deep Truth” © 2019 Timothy