Honoring Our Dead?


There are no coincidences on earth
When it comes to that overwhelming visitor, Death
Because the visit, whenever, wherever it occurs
Is always in the Master’s plan
Therefore death in its sting and loss
Is certainly never untimely
At whatever age or in whatever circumstance
It remains the inevitable end
The body deprived of the soul
Is on its way to becoming dust
Just as the Master planned
And because death is so mysterious
It defies the logical mind
In its wake, we hurt, we wail, at times
We even despair
And in our grief
We address an unresponsive body
With apologies for what should have been…
The heartfelt “I love you” left unsaid
Despair opportunities galore
The contrite “I am sorry” that could have deeply healed
Or the humble “May I help you?” knowing
Humanity’s inadequacies
All now irretrievable!
Yet the panegyrics, the eulogies, the tributes of
Every genre flow continuously wherever a body rests in varnished coffin or gilded casket or even lying on the bare earth
And so one asks to what purpose?
Perhaps just perhaps the dead through these voices can yet teach the living to live.


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