As it seems

I stare across the sea, and there's nothing to see, but peace.
I discern it, waiting patiently, with it's delicate style.
As my pain drifts to hope and I feel good for a while.
To my right a rolling hillside, dresses in grass of green,
With the color made free by God.
Truly it's there, where the just are spared, on that beautiful sod.
To my left, a family of trees, touching the breeze.
No despair, not one single care, as they dance with air.
They defend me from cold the undying old.
I forget about me and life as a whole.
At my feet is a stone, only a stone, left alone.
And her response is alike as well as shown.
She's not bothered or annoyed, dejection is void.
And she feels the same way, as well as shown.
That life is worth living, when left alone.
I listen to what I hear, as I hear nothing, but not silence.
Nothing is peace, and hopeful at least.
I may discern my Lord until forever I cease.
Finally I touch the ground on which I stand.
How can heaven seem so real?
So along with a gleam, I no longer see,
and feeling surreal I arise from a dream.

Copyright 2000 Joseph Michael Egan