Just In Passing
The note arrived late one November afternoon
It came quietly saying, “Dad’s lost in passing”.
It was a simple thought, “his work will be lasting”.
The notice announced, “we will gather at the next red moon”.
There was an empty book at the front door
With small cards reading a prayer for a soul’s passing.
And a reminder to all, “nothing is everlasting”.
There were cold folding chairs lined across an old wood floor.
The grey skies outside cried through the window’s panes
As people gathered in line to honor an old man’s passing.
Each shared a moment and a soft embrace saying, “his work is lasting”.
And after prayers were said shared memories brought laughter and too, pains.
The empty room was busy now with family and friends tending
To an array of old photos and keepsakes left to tell of life’s passing;
Newborn to child; teen to man; soldier to artist; the images were lasting.
Placing a lifetime in proper chronology does not always explain the ending.
Wondering through his life and paging through his works of art
While overhearing so many whispers, “how did we not see this before his passing?
And why did he stop creating; why did silence then become so lasting – “
A sweet child imagined, “perhaps, he had given all that was left in his heart”.
No comments:
Post a Comment