Present

Waiting for my time
Not just any time
It avoids arriving
While I am striving
For the next rung
On a wooden ladder

The ladder points
At Heaven’s door
Now closed against
The light and more
Of its sacred secrets

Heaven waits
To celebrate me
When I arrive
Past sixty three
Reading ancient poetry

Letting go of my body
May be the hard part
Passing by the door
May be much easier
Than anything else
I have done before

I have felt heaven here
Shining brightly through
Every present moment
I have shared with you
In every instant I wake
There is no wish to wait