Transition

And so the soul—

When it is freed at last from earthly bonds,

Flies from its prison house to its true home.

On earth it was encumbered, incomplete,

Dumb and half blind, struggling with earth and sin;

Striving and groping on its darkened way;

With the eternal question on its lips

Eternally unanswered—“Why?”

Until the angel comes with outstretched wings,

Dark underneath to him but light above;

That angel which like two-faced Janus stands,

One face forever turned towards the past,

The other forward to the life to come;

That dreaded messenger from the Unseen

Who is called Death by you, but Life by us.

“I AWOKE!” Conditions of Life on the other Side, David Stott, London, 1895