Know-Love-Obey God

Nothing unexpected here—polished black coffin,
Every voice hushed, controlled greetings, careful hugs,
Waiting in the guest-book line. Nothing surprises at this funeral,
Not even when suit-and-tied attendant
Emerges from the back room, walks up carpeted aisle, and
Slips open coffin’s half-lid to reveal his unoccupied frame. Though it
Shakes me, not even that is unexpected. Then, seated

On maroon-cushioned pew-chair to my left: beloved friend, soul-companion.
For the first time, I see her hands, and my panicked breath rushes.

Lines of years. The beginning of old age
In her hands. Time-loosened skin
Forming history-bearing ridges,
Each beginning of a wrinkle telling her tale, line by line, skin-lines

Crowding as they congregate between and
Over knuckles. Almost
Unwillingly I calculate our age difference:
Not even fifteen years. Just fourteen-point-
Three, not so much. Yet while
In this funeral-place the congregation celebrate-grieves a
Ninety-year-old’s homegoing, I
Grieve, prematurely, over losing

This friend who can see my spirit’s depths. Her lungs draw breath, her
Heart still pumps, yet I sorrow at losing her. Hand-wrinkles catch my
Eye and laugh at me kindly,

Declaring, “But she lives!” and I laugh, too,
Again shaking my head at myself.
Years of friendship yet before us (Lord willing).
So I steer my mind back to now. I will not mourn the living.

*******

Father, You have given me forward-looking, future-oriented mind and heart. Let it be to Your glory and for Your purposes only. Let me not look too far ahead.

(For L.L. Barkat’s writing prompt at High Calling Blogs.)