Crossing Over

As you lie there, slowly drifting and fading,
It's not quite time yet, so you are still waiting.
Your hands peacefully folded upon your chest,
You remember a time when life was its best.
You're a curious young girl, no older than seven.
Life is carefree, just as you imagine Heaven.
Wisps of hair falling, ribbons coming undone,
You catch the spring raindrops on the tip of your tongue.
As more rain clouds move in and showers keep falling,
On your name, you hear a gentle voice calling.
You begin to wander toward the sound of the voice,
You are drawn to it, as though you have no choice.
You can't see His face, but you reach for His hand.
The Father has come to take you to his homeland.
One last time, I watch your chest rise and then fall.
It's time to go home now, you have given your all.