Plowing the streets was necessary,
But it leaves me, though safer, sad.
In that unblemished blanket from heaven’s stores,
I saw for the first time, at last,
The gleaming, blinding sparkling ores
Of streets made from pure, white gold.
I am too heavy to walk this new road
And so I dig out the cheap, sturdy, dirty old
Pavement that is suited to my earthbound soul.
But although I am bent at my task, sore and cold,
Someday I’ll traverse those streets of gold
For someday I will be risen to walk upon snow.