My father died of stroke in '04;
His voice was gone and never heard again,
It was like he just walked right out the door,
And flew up to the sparkling Astral Plain.
They say that folks don't die, and I agree;
I know that he is fine in his new home
Wherever in the skies that it may be,
He now lives beneath an astral dome.
I also feel the years when he was here,
Have not just gone away without a trace;
That on some holographic hyper-sphere,
They keep on turning in the Mega-Space.
That recent past when we were all together,
Is still with us in some unnoticed way,
That secret laws of time and space will tether
The times when he was here in Today.
That in some grooves of parallel existence,
His laughter, jokes and humor will remain,
As he observes us from the mega distance,
From his new dwelling on the Astral Plain.
