Just this side of heaven, there is a meadow for our Shepherd friends.
Where the golden grass is endless, and the sunny trail never ends.
They no longer need to guard the gate, or patrol the darkened night,
Here, they are just happy dogs, running freely in the light.

All the Shepherds who were weak or old, whose hind legs lost their sway,
Are restored to perfect, powerful health, ready for the day.
They sprint and play together, with their pointed ears so high,
Chasing clouds and butterflies beneath the endless sky.

Until suddenly, one stops—and stands so proud and still,
Those sharp, intelligent eyes lock onto the distant hill.
They’ve caught your scent upon the breeze, their favorite human soul,
And as they sprint into your arms, their loyal heart is whole.