Toward the Afterlife
A poem in memory of John E. Barnett

 When I see birds I think of freedom
Only birds can chase each other in the sky
The mourning doves are different though
Their wings and spirit say,
Wait and know, death and change 

The chimney smoke of memory does not disappear
I met a spirit while flying on the wind
I accept the suspense in such spiritual evolution
It is better to say you are part of my heart,
than ask complicated questions 

Driving we are full of possibility
Whistling we are in a forest and the angels may come
The hand of God is an uncharted map
Somewhere there must be the Wisconsin river,
Somewhere … the friends of Gideon 

We may return to the waters after baptism
The part that is land is of no concern
The current is strong for this time of year
From far away we are feathers,
Sinking and floating again 

I am part of an eagle's nest 

I am what I thought I would be 

Vonne Meussling-Barnett
April 2004