Awake Me, Mom Poem by Gladden Scribbles

On my ascent to the skies,
I saw my past weep before me,
And the memories of joy and fruitless cries
Stung my consciousness like an angry bee.
From boyhood into adulthood,
From mortality to immortality,
My dear deeds of manhood
Surged on my way to eternity.

Awake me, Mom; I cannot feel me.
Was this what the Owner said would be?

The scenes here seem like a dream.
I saw men and women, young and old,
And people life had treated with esteem
Soaring through the sky as it enfolds.
And there was no poor nor the rich,
Nor the abled or the disabled,
Nor the wizard or the witch,
In this equal world of the dazzled.

Awake me, Mom; I have something to say—
I have seen the unity we wanted all day.

On my descent from the sky,
I found myself amidst a crowd
Of people who had said their goodbyes,
Waiting upon a figure in a lucent cloud.
Joy and sorrow filled this peopled air
At the verdicts of this silent Judge;
My verdict came in His fairness' care,
And I now have a horrid road to trudge.

Awake me, Mom; it's getting over.
The Author is erasing my history forever.