---

The feet that tread the cobblestones

Now dance on streets of gold;

The eyes that rained down salty tears

View beauty never told;

The aching body, wracked with pain,

Surrenders its long fight;

The war-torn spirit sick from fear

Finds courage in His light

. . . Here on the other side.

---

The lonely one without a smile

Laughs as never before;

The child who knew no father there

Sings “Abba” evermore;

The soul so tired of humanness

Now sheds its mortal shell,

And thirst is quenched with water

From a never-ending well

. . . Here on the other side.

---

For the mind that harbored questions

Now confusion is made clear,

And the constant tug of selfishness

Has no more power here;

The race against the clock is stilled

Forever dissolves time

And all the dreams no eye has seen

Are gloriously mine

. . . Here on the other side.

____________________________

I wrote this poem in college in a season of weariness with the world and a deep longing for heaven. I was about 20 at the time. “Even youths grow tired and weary…” (Isaiah 40:30) and you are never to young to dream about it.