Doorways

I once scorned ev’ry fearful thought of death,
When it was but the end of pulse and breath,
But now my eyes have seen that past the pain
There is a world that’s waiting to be claimed.

Earthmaker, Holy, let me now depart,
For living’s such a temporary art.

And dying is but getting dressed for God,
Our graves are merely doorways cut in sod.

– Calvin Miller, The Divine Symphony (Minneapolis: Bethany, 2000), 139.

HT: Trevin Wax