I can see heaven thrown open.
And the son of man standing at the right side of God.
Our dreams need ever be broken.
Even as we pass under the heavy sod.

My mother lies in fields pastoral.
We stood beside her graveside.
She wanted a green funeral.
Without any stone memorial as guide.

But the wooden sign has rotted away.
She would be one hundred and three today.
Only the oak tree marks her stay.
She had passed through life on her way.

She wanted to be marked only by nature .
That was her kindly nature.

…….

How has death marked her
With some stone memorial
No, with an oak tree

…….

See Acts 6