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