Just about two months ago a dear friend died and was subsequently cremated.
It simply blows my mind how someone can bubble over with life one minute, and within a very short time become a lifeless body and ultimately just a pile of bones indistinguishable from so much of the other fragments of life that are all around us.
All the more reason to be respectful of all this earth we call home.
And during Lent, this is a very real interpretation of "Dust thou art, and to dust you shall return."
My poem follows in tribute to my dear friend, Judith, who died way too soon.
There she lays now
Just a pile of bones.
Lifeless clusters of nothingness
All the life gone to who knows where.
These bones once played on swings,
Hiked the Smokies
Knelt in prayer
Lingered at the run away sun.
These bones kissed and fondled
Another throbbing partner in love.
Opened to give life to babies.
These bones carried mystery
Wondered why, when and how
Studied in Sunday School
And laughed out loud.
These bones were vivacious
Strong, constantly strengthened
Jumped, bounced, wound dizzily
Wrapped around another tightly.
Now just a pile
With no story to tell..
The spirit carried away.
These bones are silent.
They wonder with the wind.
Searching for a new home
Amidst a bigger mystery.
These bones still carry life
To an intricately stitched web weaving
Them to possibilities, potentialities.
New moments molding movements
Solidarities and serendipities.
These bones beg to be lifted
To highest earthly peaks
Into the muddy darkness of rivers
And deep into dirty corners of breath.
Will I let these ashes go
So that they find their resting nest,
Once more into a love
Only a mystery can tell?