Member-only story
A poem on life of death
Somehow ask me not
I found myself in a funny spot
Outside a church the door ajar
The street was empty not a soul or car
I ventured in the lights were on
Walked down the aisle as I gazed upon
The picture of a man next to an urn
With candles casting shadows as they burned
Continuing I felt it strange
Not a soul was there to entertain
Or greet or say who was this guy
I wondered questioning myself why
I searched for a sign a name a clue
Was this man someone who
Made his mark as he walked through life
If so where were his family his wife
I felt a tap upon my back
A man of the cloth all dressed in black
Asked me “Are you a friend of Brother Joe’s?”
I turned and with a smile said “No!”
“What brings you then?” He asked of me
I replied, “Nothing more than curiosity
I felt a need to walk in to see
What God had in store this day for me.”
He took my hand and walked me close
Reciting what Joe meant to him most
They worked together here in this church
Joe in the background he on the perch
No one ever saw him or knew
All the arduous work that but a few
Would do with not a one to know
This kind-hearted soul his brother Joe
“So here today I’ve prayed for him
I’ve released him of all his sins
To send him off to that place above
With words of praise and all my love.”
— WOLRAD
(A poem from the Wolrad collection #300)
