I shall soar like an Eagle
high in God’s blue sky,
that’s where I shall be after
I die, with warriors from
wars gone by.
Soaring over the snow covered
mountain tops, across the Great
Plains of amber grain, from the
Pacific to the Atlantic, and back again.
I’ll be in the spring rains, in the silence
of the breeze that scurries the colorful
autumn leaves along the ground in
the fall.
I’ll be in the surf that quietly caresses the
white, sandy shores of the Gulf Coast on a
warm summer’s eve.
I’ll be winter’s blanket of newborn snow,
covering mother earth, until springs early glow.
Fear not, my love, for I shall be near on
stormy nights to be your guiding light.
I will always be around, until the minute,
you quit loving me, then I’ll quietly fade
away, like a lover’s dream.
