Picture life, viewed on the horizon,
Where the sun is well defined
Whether it be morning or approaching night,
And the mighty roar of the ocean
Rolling as the wind blows,
And alone, the true water dove ascends,
Separated from the flock,
Yet, in familiar skies,
Destination eternity
As promised for a spirit-filled life.
And picture those beneath the wind,
And though we believe
We are not called, so we are left behind
Assembled to celebrate
Yet, mourn the life
Because the truth, the dove touched lives
And these lives suffer through sorrow,
Knowing that the dove is no longer in sight
And we smile, knowing she is flapping her wings
And though we believe we will meet again
I rather suffer the sorrow splattered on my floor
With tears in my eyes because it is hard to let go
Because of whom the dove was in my life
I will miss you Grandma