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The Traveler
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By Gynith Roberts
Other Poems by Gynith Roberts

 

The Traveler

 

He is known by many names;
the grim reaper, the finger of
doom or the death angel.
I prefer to know him as the traveler.

I've seen him afar, forever.
Today he seems closer,
so near I see the sand in the hourglass
still falling one grain at a time.
Is he here for me?
No, not this day.
My work is not yet finished.

One day he will
come for me.
I pray it will be a summer
morning when the grass
is green velvet,
gentle breezes whisper
softly across the land,
the mist is fresh upon
the lilac and the heavens
are alive with the song of birds.

Let me hear his call
from my garden.
Then, I will set aside the
tools of life and follow
him to the land of
promise and fulfillment.
There I will rest eternally in
the company of angels.

Gynith Roberts

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Submitted: Saturday, June 29, 2002

Last Updated: Tuesday, October 13, 2009

About the Poet
I still have 4 grandsons and love to write. Although it hasn't been easy (nothing worth while ever is), on June 1 Floyd and I will celebrate our 57th wedding anniversary.

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