Much of the kind palaver,
When friends and family gather,
Is about what the man did
While he scurried o’er the earth.
What his parents could afford,
Where he schooled, and what he scored,
Talk is of what he added
To his family’s total worth.
Or if he was a mixer,
Perhaps a great up-fixer,
Or that he was quite candid,
Or a man of jolly mirth.
None of such talk is centered
On the place the dead entered,
For the one discussed has died,
Forever leaving old earth.
To go up to God’s heaven,
Which has no carnal leaven,
Requires, to be qualified,
A second and holy birth.
After “birth” did he invest
His talents as he was blest?
Had he God’s kingdom supplied,
Even in times of his dearth?
What we’re worth when our life ends,
Heaven’s count of us depends,
Not upon gold neatly stacked,
Nor upon our ranch’s girth.
Heaven’s the place to send wealth,
Eternal illness or health,
High investment – related
Whether from New York or Perth. – eab, 3/2/07
Separate-Holy 