The waters bring my soil rich, my ground so blessed so black,
Tis you who plough the moral furrow, to till with aching back;
So forget the sorrows of the past, and soar on the Sea shores foam;
Bring forth the thoughts of thy beloved, when I will lead you home;
For I will lift you from your depths, away from that of night;
So I prepare your temple place, magnificence in its sight;
So when from Earth you depart, I will show you of your beauty;
Of all the harvests you bestowed a journey of your duty;
How souls you touched a guiding light, to help them on their path;
Then swept the track upon the sand, so loose of judgement wrath;
The whispered voice upon the wind is how my message tells;
So you can weave the perfection loom, a divine heart where it dwells;
Tis you who shed the pounds of life, to form protections curtain;
To endeavour lessons lost or clear, none will know are certain;
It’s when you grasp my cold warm hand, with eyes that have no light;
By then you know your flesh has gone, But the glowing heart takes Flight;
It shines as if a Sun above, bursts forth an exploding star;
Then you become yourself renewed and know just where you are;
David de Roeck
