Going Home

Going to heaven!

I don’t know when, pray do not ask me how.

Going to heaven!

How dim it sounds!

And yet it will be done as sure as flocks go home

at night unto the shepherd’s arm.

If you should get there first, save just a little place

for me close to the two I lost.

The smallest ‘robe’ will fit me, and just a bit of

‘crown’, for you know we do not mind our dress

when we are going home.

Emily Dickinson