The Photo
 

I saw the picture taken, at a funeral I went to
I was there when it happened, so I know the story is true
A photo taken of the grave, the camera lens was clean
but as the flash was taken, a mist rose that we'd seen

The picture showed a tomb stone, and a freshly dug lone grave
but it was in the mist we question, for the answers that we crave
In the photo there appeared a figure, lifting to the sky
the figure was my uncle, it makes me want to cry

The photo showed him plain as day, in his face we saw a glow
it made us all kneal right there, as our faith began to grow
I saw him adorned in robe, there was no fear in his eye
it made me realize acceptence, that my Uncle had to die

I knew right then that death, is nothing for us to fear
as long as you accept the Lord, there's no need to shed a tear
That photo has since faded, this was thirty years ago
but the feeling always stays the same, as inspiration grows
 

Dave W Hartman

Copyright ©2002 Dave W Hartman