"The Gate"
By W.J. O'Neil

Golden arch, golden glow, light so blinding bright
  Aged and faded wooden gate, timid, on the right
Trembling legs, nervousness, a wait behind the rest
  Rich, famous, powerful, sights of all the best
Time paused in length, callings came, judgement of a man
  Amid the door and wooden gate, thick book held by hand
Knowledge sought, lives heard full, speak of so much more
  Measurement on every word, most bade through the door
Upon a time, a trembling stance, a place afront the man
  Eyes aimed down, a kneeled respect, improper thought to stand
Puzzled looks, a ponderance, thick book still in hand
  Words whispered soft, question came, "Who kneels afront this man?"
Crackled voice, simple life, not one to measure much
  No wealth, no fame, no power, a soft and solemn touch
Words to speak, a sickened child, a heart, now strong to be
  Came the one, an offered help, child now cures for free
More words to speak, an empty child, hunger sent away
  Came the one, an offered help, child feeds the poor today
Words pronounced, time to stand, that which I should do
  Thoughts aloud, bended knees, "I kneel respect to you"
Famed life, great wealth, true power, simple solemn look
  Lives thought full, a measure small, To whom which owns this book
Themselves to speak, a life so blessed, to pass the golden door
  Sadness speaks, life relived, a path not known before
Came you, the one, offered help, so rare a simple trait
  To understand, measure full, to walk through Heaven's Gate.

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