the end

when i die,
when they lay me in the ground and scatter me over with dust,
i pray to leave behind a legacy of overstuffed bookshelves and hearts flooding with warmth and a rushing feeling that i have done something worthwhile.
and i hope to look up into the blinding light of how i imagine new life to be
and hear the words, “well done good and faithful servant”,
and even if i had doubts before
nothing will ever prepare me for the torrent of relief and love and worship that will fill me to the brim at hearing that voice

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