THEY ARE IN THE HALL OF CHEER (Dedicated to those that Departed from SCOAN’s Building Collapse) They who’re dead aren’t dead; They who’ve departed from us are around with others; As our hands are withdrawn from their hold, So are they welcomed into the folds of firmer hands. Our sight is the one that tires and tarries – unable to see Even the ordinary end of the endless sea; Our sight – full of blind vision – is the one that shuns long journeys, Reason we see not the glories of the sleeping braves. Oh little giants – were you settled in sight, Or bright enough to see as I see the unseen Light, Cheer as fresh as the early morning dew caressing whispering leaves Will tar your heart when you see the bliss on which the dead stroll and dance. I’ve dined and wined with the air, and the sea, and the sun, And the moon, and the stars, and the stones, and planes unknown; I’ve swum the turgid waters of good and bad, seen every bang and pang, And felt the seduction of roses, and the purity of lilies – and their curing tang. And I tell you that they that from this plane depart Are blessed to be redeemed from the fen of pain, For they partake of a glorious post – And sleep the deep sleep of which the mighty quest in vain. Our tears, and our voids – our dewy-eyed hearts…they’re ours; The departed know them no more – and no more chew the sugarcane of grief, But wish they could reach our stubborn ears and hearts, And teach us how to live so that we’ll when we die continue to live. So, grief no more – oh sleeping mortals; sleep no more – awake! For they that are asleep are truly awake – They’ve ousted the needles of life, and the rivers of mortal eyes, And the dews of heavy hearts, and the showers of pining pores. Yes; the departed into God’s kindest yacht are stepped, To sail in glory to the end of times unnumbered; And because their faith is fair and pure – and their love fairer, The door through which they entered they left ajar. When the storms have risen and lost their wine, Or the winter by summer is subdued and withdrawn – A golden sky comes wide awake, And in every corner tarries the benign tone of the lark. When darkness loses its flaming blade, Or the dark by light is found – The fowls of the air are full of cheerful lyrics, When in velvet wings we’re airborne beyond the blues. So, let the woods vanish, and the air its breath lose; Let the oceans vomit all its water and inmates; Let the stars crash, and the moon fall, and the sun drown and die; And the vales and knolls, dales and mounts – let them all flat lie… Yes; let heaven and earth collide and burn, And the space and planets unknown shrink and wane, But for God – and His word, let them as constant as the Northern star stand, And my faith in Him, let it grow like time without end. Verily, verily, they’re not gone that fall asleep, Nor are they that sway in God lost from our constant beep; Awake are our dear loved ones who’re done and gone, And our reunion will forever live when our own circle is finally fully run. Like the distant star someday I’ll shine, And under my feet shall sleep forever the clouds of pain; Then I’ll dance to the songs made by the gentle breeze As it marches through the forts and pores of watchful woods. Bound we’re to a pale tall hall beyond the sunset Wherein Angels wait and watch, meditate and chant, Like roses on a gentle breeze we’ll be carried to meet again In that bright fair hall where parting is unknown. WRITTEN BY REV. CHIDOZIE EJIMADU (SECRETARY-GENERAL, OHANAEZE NDIGBO SOUTH AFRICA)
Posted on: Sat, 27 Sep 2014 23:31:54 +0000
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