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When The Trumpet Sounds by Kathleen Higham It was a dark and rainy day A distant thunder rolled through Wild geese flew over us honking Like a trumpet, then I knew God had announced His presence Where we gathered, only a few My son came and stood by me Neither of us sure what to do A small box once a loving man Was placed down in a hole As my Pastor prayed for him I knew, God already had his soul Huddled there with those I loved Charles, my eldest brother's name Was carved on a granite stone Then peacefulness finally came As I visualized a joyful reunion Not noticing the inclement weather Men reaching out to each other Two brothers in Heaven together A symbolic, yet respectful gesture The dirt heaped up in a mound Shoveled onto the one I love I'll never forget the sound The last tears fell for me today My Mom greets the son she bore I had kept my promise to her My brother won't need me anymore But I will see them all someday As a small box goes into the ground Not here, but raised up to Heaven The moment when the trumpets sound |
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This poem may be use within Christian ministries for any non-profit purpose without requesting permission.