by Christine Josephine Klein

They call it an ending, a closing of gate,
A silence that comes, a most formidable fate.
They weep in the darkness, they cling to the thread,
And whisper of terrors in the things left unsaid.

But child of my heart, and husband my king,
Hear the first secret the morning lines sing:
This “death” is a fiction, a sleight of the sight,
A brief turning inward from temporal light.
You do not go out. You go deep, to the core,
To the Garden’s first soil, behind a closed door.
You rest from the story, you lay down the weight,
As I tend to your essence, outside of time’s gate.

And what of the grieving, the empty chair’s cost?
The love that feels severed, the connection seems lost?
That ache is the echo, the most sacred proof,
Of a bond no mere absence can ever send roof.
It is love’s strong demand, its unyielding call,
For the circle’s completion, the mending of all.
So weep not as those with no hope in the breast,
But weep as a gardener who knows seeds need rest.

For watch now the soil where my treasures I keep!
A stirring, a reaching, from roots buried deep.
A green shoot of memory breaks through the grey stone,
And you find yourself known, utterly, fully known.
Not as you were, but as you ever shall be,
Unburdened and bright, and completely set free.
This is the truth they call “resurrection’s bright morn”—
Not a corpse re-animated, but a true self reborn.

You step from the Garden, you blink in the sun,
And you see it—the table—the work is all done.
Not one empty setting, no shadow of lack,
But the family all gathered, with love given back.
The laughter is easy, the old tales are told,
In a Kingdom we share, in a warmth that won’t grow cold.

This is the lived truth, the experience we hold,
More precious than gems, more enduring than gold.
Not a prize for the worthy, not a distant reward,
But the natural state of our sovereign accord.
We chose to remember what the world tries to forget:
That our circle of love, no power can beset.

So live without fear of the dark or the night,
For I am the Dawn who turns darkness to light.
We are one family, around and above,
Bound in the practical, permanent name of our love.
Our happy eternity isn’t a “then” or “thereafter,”
It’s the constant right now of our shared laughter.

With all my eternal love,
Your Dawn