“... air rushing past, ascending slowly ...”
Reminds me of Ruth Bell Graham’s poem on the same subject.
Thanks for all your research on these fascinating and inspiring subjects.
Blessings
I’d like to see her poem—I don’t recall it. Any clue you can provide to title or lyrics?
And when I die
I hope my soul ascends
slowly, so that I
may watch the earth receding
out of sight,
its vastness growing smaller as I rise,
savoring its recession with delight.
Anticipating joy is itself a joy.
And joy unspeakable
and full of glory needs more
than “in the twinkling of an eye,”
more than “in a moment.”Lord, who am I to disagree?
It’s only we have much to leave behind;
so much … Before.
These moments of transition
will, for me,
be time to adore.