A Glad Homecoming

I knelt by the bedside
Of an elderly dying saint.
Her body was frail and weak.
Her voice was soft and faint.

"I'm going home," she whispered.
"I already see the light.
I hear the beautiful music.
The angels are in sight."

It seemed her strength renewed
As she tightly squeezed my hand.
She said, "Just keep the faith
'Til we meet in Glory Land.

My heart felt so very heavy,
And I knew I should be sad,
But as I beheld that Godly saint,
Her homecoming made me glad.

Jan Bagwell

God Bless