Will you be there?

 By Kayla Cook

Will you be there when I die,

take my hand and fly me high?

Pull me from a sleep so dark,

guide me along the tune of the lark?

Lift me from my sea of pain,

catch me if I fall again? 


Will you be there when I pass,

when my soul is free at last?

Toss me a lure, throw me a rope,

so I have something on which to base my hope?

Sing me a song, return my heart,

save me from myself, never again depart? 


Will you be there when my life fades,

when I reach my end of days? 

Grab my soul or give me wings,

help me find where that lark sings?

Teach me to fly, help me to soar

until my wounds don't hurt me anymore?


If I die tonight will you take me

to where you've been these past few years?

If I sleep and decide not to wake

will you pull me from my fears?

Or will you meet me in a dream and ask me to stay

here in this world of pain and this body of clay?


Can I visit you again

in dream or death or thought or glen?

Can I feel you in my arms again,

my dearest, sweetest, long gone friend?

Or will my nights be dreamless, my life too long,

my memories lost, or my world too wrong?


Say I can look forward to seeing you once more,

and I'll wait to pass through Heaven's door.

Say you, too, will be waiting for me,

waiting for me to come to thee.

You give me the time, promise to be fair,

and I'll be sure to meet you there . . .


Will you be there? 

Copyright Ⓒ 2020 by Kayla Cook