Death's gates

I went to death's gates today. I listened to some music recorded about a year and a half ago by my son who has gone before me to see the father. The strains of the music were every bit the reminder of him that a picture would be. But the music stirred my soul in ways a picture cannot. I felt his fabric in his music. The strains took me right to death's gates so that I could see over them. It was not dark behind the gates as some have depicted the next world. It was bright on the other side, full of inspiration and music and peace. I will soon catch up to my son. But for now, I have inspiration, music, and peace that leak through the gate. And anytime I try to see over the gate into the land it bars me from, I see brilliance, not darkness.