I'm standing in front of the gate.
What is it?
The cargo accumulated with prayer and possessions
The last days.
I'm lost in thought at the doorstep
It's like a shadow.
Grab your own burden in the feet of God,
On the day of judgment.
I can not make up my mind,
The land has grown.
Holds tightly what I managed to cash in,
And no longer is the body a temple for the soul,
Only a case.
Somewhere there it will remain in the world's wilderness,
As a gift from God.
But once you need to open this door,
Remember what in life I wanted so much to forget,
Make a step, cross the threshold.
I opened my soul.
Let God paternally look at his creation,
And sighing ...
From grief to suffering, take a step
Like any father your first friend, you are your enemy,
To you and to suffer.
I'm standing still. The soul is already beyond the threshold,
Like a prisoner.
And the fate of writing with errors before God,
She moans on her knees.
"REFLECTIONS" Grandpa Go