My Love

When ere the cold hands of death strike,
The sun shines through gloom.
And, for my dear love I would like
Flowers in sweet bloom.

In the darkness of the hour,
Before that last breath.
May, I feel peace and not cower-
As I witness death?

A triumphant figure awaits,
Where my love now goes.
A risen Lord past pearly gates-
And my friend He knows.

I look to my left and my right (Hinckley-spoke of Pres. Faust)
And I am lonely still.
And, though there are tears that I fight
I’ve my life to fulfill.

I’ve a kind wise Heavenly Father-
He knows what I need.
I’ve a kind elder brother
Who knows how hearts bleed.

-President Monson

67, Nov 1989, Thomas S. Monson,
“Windows, ” Ensign