Memorial Poems | There Is No Death By J. L. McCreery

There Is No Death

There is no death! The stars go down
To rise upon some other shore ..
And bright in heaven’s jeweled crown
They shine forevermore.

There is no death! The forest leaves
Convert to life the view-less air ..
The rocks disorganize to feed
The hungry moss they bear.

There is no death! The dust we tread
Shall change, beneath the summer showers ..
To golden grain, or mellowed fruit
Or rainbow-tinted flowers.

There is no death! The leaves may fall
And flowers may fade and pass away ..
They only wait, through wintry hours
The warm, sweet breath of May.

There is no death! The choicest gifts
That heaven hath kindly lent to earth ..
Are ever first to seek again
The country of their birth.

And all things that for growth or joy
Are worthy of our love or care ..
Whose loss has left us desolate
Are safely garnered there.

Though life becomes a desert waste
We know it’s fairest, sweetest flowers ..
Transplanted into Paradise
Adorn immortal bowers.

The voice of birdlike melody
That we have missed and mourned so long ..
Now mingles with the angel choir
In everlasting song.

There is no death! Although we grieve
When beautiful, familiar forms ..
That we have learned to love are torn
From our embracing arms–

Although with bowed and breaking heart
With sable garb and silent tread ..
We bear their senseless dust to rest
And say that they are “dead,”

They are not dead! They have but passed
Beyond the mists that blind us here ..
Into the new and larger life
Of that serener sphere.

They have but dropped their robe of clay
To put their shining raiment on ..
They have not wandered far away
They are not “lost nor “gone.”

Though dis-enthralled and glorified
They still are here and love us yet ..
The dear ones they have left behind
They never can forget.

And sometimes, when our hearts grow faint
Amid temptations fierce and deep ..
Or when the wildly raging waves
Of grief or passion sweep.

We feel upon our fevered brow
Their gentle touch, their breath of balm ..
Their arms enfold us, and our hearts
Grow comforted and calm.

And ever near us, though unseen
The dear, immortal spirits tread ..
For all the boundless universe
Is Life–there are no dead!

By J. L. McCreery

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