in heaven awakened, as in a dream,
What will remain to mark my place
or tell the world "This was my space!"
Will an echo of my laughter ring,
a memory tugging at heart strings?
Will someone cringe from cruel ire,
a pointed barb from murk and mire,
Yet someone else remember still
I kindly helped when she was ill?
How my soul will long to know for sure
the impact that I left was pure;
To know that deeds, though finished now,
will follow on and still somehow
Refresh someone with thoughts of worth
and goad him to live well on earth.
When words I've scattered in the air
are read again sometime, somewhere,
Though I remain Author Unknown,
I pray my words lead someone Home.