Take Me Home… my Work Is Done Poem by Joe Fraccalvieri

In front of heaven's pearly gate...
Outside its golden door...
I quote a poem to those who wait,
though each word has been heard before--
Since the birth of souls, through love and hate--
Past hopes and fears-- Through years of peace and war

For every poem that's passed along
the words unfold, from angel to angel…
One to another
And on the earth, in lyric, song,
and stories told, to young and old,
by every loving mother

When humankind has had its run
and the world runs out of rhyme...
Nothing, you'll find, was left behind...
The seeds have grown-- The harvest, sown--
The wheat cut in its prime

The Day of Judgement has just begun--
Now is the end of time

The stars and the planets have vanished from sight,
as well as the moon and the sun...
Apostles and devils have ended their fight--
The forces of virtue have won...
The lame now walk-- The mute can talk--
The blind now see the light

Each name is spoken from His Holy Book...
Each poem, recited, one by one,
as we're offered, at last, one last, longing look
from roads, where once, there were none--
Looking back on the one that we willingly took,
while knowing God's Will, will be done--

Because every soul is a single poem,
to remind us of what we had won...
And the final word is handed down
at the right hand of God, like a silver crown,
by His only begotten son....