Land Between Lives

There is a special land that exists;
an island, without sand or sea;
much like a repeating dream persists;
a place where all come to be.

It’s life’s theater’s backstage;
a cloud, floating in empty sky;
a pleasant dream, to engage;
the anteroom where you die.

It involves no actual space;
time and space; now a mist;
a morning fog in its place;
much like a will-o’-the-wisp.

For, life’s energy had left its grave;
leaving its physical body behind;
soul was alive; nothing to save;
just like the Master designed.

It seems like a doctor’s waiting room;
where the soul is waiting to be called;
thinking it left its body too soon;
by its surroundings; the soul, enthralled.

The soul now exists as solely a mind;
a disembodied collection of thought;
all of reality became redefined;
transforming the reality of ought.

Imbued with a peace, beyond understanding;
devoid of weight; the soul takes flight;
the voice of the Master gently commanding;
the joyful soul, floats to the Light.