Thursday, August 09, 2007

[Camera Pans Left: Close On the Steeple of the Church]

Without you
the ground thaws
the rain falls
the grass grows

Without you
the seeds root
the flowers bloom
the children play

The stars gleam
the poets dream
the eagles fly
without you

The Earth turns
the sun burns
but I die

without you

The moon glows
the river flows
but I die
without you

Should we ever grow accustomed to the timely, yet unpredictable nature of death?
At best, we would be declared logical or realistic; at worst, calloused.

The world revives
colors renew
but I know blue
only blue
lonely blue
without you

Without you
the hand gropes
the ear hears
the pulse beats

Without you
the eyes gaze
the legs walk
the lungs breathe

The mind churns
the heart yearns
the tears dry

without you

Wednesday night, a thirteen-year-old boy in the congregation killed himself. No one saw it coming.
Please pray for our church congregation. The funeral is Saturday.
("Without You" -- from RENT)


The Sheep said...

Oh... so that's what the shock was about. I'm very sorry, Elizabeth. I'll keep praying.

Jobber said...

I just now read this. I'll be praying.