×
Your Cart
Your items
Cart is empty.
Fill your cart with amazing items
Shop Nowbdfg
$0.00
FREE SHIPPING
$0.00
Keep Shopping

The Light Beyond The Grave

The last thing I remember
That doctor wouldn’t quit;
He pounded on my sternum
And cussed with every hit.

‘Twas then I felt a numbness,
And a silence, oh, so still.
A darkness drew around me
Like a curtain ‘cross the sill.

But with the blackness came a peace
That took away the fright;
And as I wondered at the scene
I saw that fabled light.

At first so small, and far away…
But bright and white it grew;
With it’s approach a thunder rose,
A sound I somehow knew.

It came to me, and then it stopped;
I squinted at the glare.
The light turned off, the thunder ceased,
And I could only stare

At the headlamp of a Harley,
With golden chrome so sweet,
As Dad, in bright white leathers,
Sat beaming on the seat.

Amazed, I sought for answers;
I searched his eyes, he winked;
“Welcome, Son, I’ll take you home.”
I stumbled back and blinked.

“Now, take it easy,Son,” he warned,
“You know the Good Book said
That if you live a faithful life
He’ll reward you when you’re dead.

“There’s mansions many in His house,
Most find it quite the lodge;
He found for me the perfect room,
I live in His garage!

“Talk about your perfect shop!
My ratchet handle’s pearled!
Any tool you name He’s got;
After all, He built the world!”

Dad fired up his golden hawg
And said, “Let’s hit the skies!
I’ve resurrected Rumblin’ Red
And now she REALLY flies!”

I started toward the saddle
When something jerked me back;
My heart resumed it’s pumpin’
At the dang doctor’s whack.

I coughed, I gagged, I tried to talk;
I wanted just to die!
I faded off and dreamed for days
Of riding ‘cross the sky.

But that was quite some time ago,
And in this life you learn
To live each day your level best,
For death you wait your turn.

Now I am one of many who
Have viewed that awesome sight;
At the portal of the grave
I saw that shining light.

But only I have seen the source
Of the light that splits the fog;
And none believe my simple tale
Of the angel on the hawg.

Picture of Wes Stephenson

Wes Stephenson

Author, motorcyclist, poet, and adventurer. Let's journey together.

Share:

Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
LinkedIn
Email
Print

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Get The Latest News

Subscribe To receive updates

Ready to stay in the loop? It only takes a moment, and you’ll receive all the latest updates right in your inbox!

poem categories

Shopping Cart