About where our loved ones go when they die. Written by my grandmother.
|Our loved ones are passing,
each day and each hour.
Passing away as the likeness of a flower.
For every bud and each blossom someday,
will bloom as a flower in our Master's bouquet.
Gathering flowers for the Master's bouquet,
beautiful flowers, that never decay.
Gathered by angels to be carried away,
forever to bloom as a flower,
In our Master's bouquet.
So let us be faithful till life's work is done,
blooming with love, till the reaper shall come,
then we'll be gathered together someday
forever to bloom,
In our Master's Bouquet.
-- Atta Mae Streaty