One thought on “The Light Beyond the Grave

    By Wes Stephenson

    The last thing I remember
    That doctor wouldn’t quit;
    He pounded on my sternum
    And cussed with every hit.

    ‘Twas then I felt a numbness,
    And a silence, oh, so still.
    A darkness drew around me
    Like a curtain ‘cross the sill.

    But with the blackness came a peace
    That took away the fright;
    And as I wondered at the scene
    I saw that fabled light.

    At first so small, and far away…
    But bright and white it grew;
    With it’s approach a thunder rose,
    A sound I somehow knew.

    It came to me, and then it stopped;
    I squinted at the glare.
    The light turned off, the thunder ceased,
    And I could only stare

    At the headlamp of a Harley,
    With golden chrome so sweet,
    As Dad, in bright white leathers,
    Sat beaming on the seat.

    Amazed, I sought for answers;
    I searched his eyes, he winked;
    “Welcome, Son, I’ll take you home.”
    I stumbled back and blinked.

    “Now, take it easy,Son,” he warned,
    “You know the Good Book said
    That if you live a faithful life
    He’ll reward you when you’re dead.

    “There’s mansions many in His house,
    Most find it quite the lodge;
    He found for me the perfect room,
    I live in His garage!

    “Talk about your perfect shop!
    My ratchet handle’s pearled!
    Any tool you name He’s got;
    After all, He built the world!”

    Dad fired up his golden hawg
    And said, “Let’s hit the skies!
    I’ve resurrected Rumblin’ Red
    And now she REALLY flies!”

    I started toward the saddle
    When something jerked me back;
    My heart resumed it’s pumpin’
    At the dang doctor’s whack.

    I coughed, I gagged, I tried to talk;
    I wanted just to die!
    I faded off and dreamed for days
    Of riding ‘cross the sky.

    But that was quite some time ago,
    And in this life you learn
    To live each day your level best,
    For death you wait your turn.

    Now I am one of many who
    Have viewed that awesome sight;
    At the portal of the grave
    I saw that shining light.

    But only I have seen the source
    Of the light that splits the fog;
    And none believe my simple tale
    Of the angel on the hawg.

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