Saturday, March 29, 2008

Morning.

The silent chair, the empty room,
The morning solemn as a tomb.
No tousled hair, or cheeky grin,
To greet us when we wander in.

Instead we cling to slumber, deep,
Without him here to steal our sleep.
We Sleepy Ones lay still at rest,
Our Early Bird has flown the nest.

For years his voice began the day –
Such little feet to lead the way.
But now he’s travelled on instead –
Such little hands to join the dead.

So now we force ourselves to wake
And greet each day, for Heaven’s sake,
Until we see, with unveiled eyes,
The dead in Christ, the first to rise.


(1 Thessalonians 4:16)

Saturday, March 08, 2008

The Club Meeting.

Come, let us weep together.
More eloquent than words,
Tears without reason or meaning.
More varieties than Eskimo snow.
Remorse, regret, remembering.
Despair, heaviness, leaking.
A cloud-burst releasing the constriction.
Solving nothing, and yet –
Come, let us weep together.

Come, let us rage together.
Earth-shattering.
Ground-shaking,
Teeth-aching,
Dish-breaking.
Blood-thirst slaking,
Breath-taking,
Powerfully futile, and yet –
Come, let us rage together.

Come, let us laugh together.
Not as they do.
Not carefree or unfettered.
Let us open our mouths as the bitterness
escapes in staccato bursts.
Those without our knowledge, or empathy
Beware the fallout of this shrapnel.
Heavy-hearted anti-mirth, and yet –
Come, let us laugh together.

Come, let us sit together.
Clothed in common suffering,
These tattered rags we strive
To carry with dignity.
Hands touching softly,
Skin brushing, to comfort,
To be connected.
Muscles tensed against isolation, and yet –
Come, let us sit together.