The Passing of Miss Lillian

This is a poem about my mother's death. She was in a nursing home for about a year and a half before she passed away and did not know anyone. She was 87 years old when she died. While we miss her presence, she actually left us over two years ago when she no longer knew anyone. I am her youngest son.

The Passing of Miss Lillian

The eye of the Lord was looking across the land,
Seeking His own whether they be woman or man.
And He saw Miss Lillian consumed on her bed of strife,
Struggling with breath, and struggling with life.”

And in His tender mercy, He bid an angel nearby,
Go out into heaven’s regions and give forth the cry,
Send out the word, call Death to my side
Make it known to angels and everyone far and wide,

On the backside of heaven, Death heard the Lord’s call,
And mounted his horse, one pale grey and tall;
And rode down those golden streets on his horse spurred,
And ask, “O master of life and death, what is your word?”

The Lord said, “It is my servant, O she is struggling so,
She has faithfully served these 87 years, and though
Now trapped in bondage, longing to be with her Lord,
Go down and bring her home to her reward.”

Death mounted his horse, rode past the moon and stars,
Through the valley of death, where pain and suffering are;
Where Miss Lillian lay suffering, Death came to her side,
And lifting her lovingly and mercifully onto his horse to ride.

On his steed, he spirited her away to heaven’s portals,
Where streets are golden and people no more mortals,
Across that magnificent heavenly door and the loving arms,
Of her Lord whom she loves, safe forever from harm.

For as we go down into the valley of the shadow of death,
Where the transition is not more than a moment’s breadth,
We fear that path we have never before trod on earth,
But it is not death we see before us, but our eternal birth.