Dimensions of Hope in Death

Death is the final curtain from which we believe none have ever come back to tell us it is OK on the other side. Yet, we do have recent near-death testimonials in large numbers that can fire our imaginations and give us hope. Others of us obtain our Hope from religious faith that has endured the centuries. Jesus' resurrection from the tomb is one of the most enduring, if not most enduring, of all stories in the religious traditions

"Backhoe" describes my experience at the grave side ceremony in which Susie was consigned to the unknown. A backhoe sitting ten feet from the grave made its presence known with its creaking hydraulics. Its operator sat on a tombstone next to it, impatient for us to finish our business so he could go home for the day. Susie didn't have that choice.

"Orchid" is the memorial to the linkage Susie and I formed that January day in the Orchid house. Perhaps her last memories on earth were of orchids. My memories of her recall the enchantment she experienced there. Certainly I am richer for the experience.

"Traveller" speaks to the journey we will all one day make. Our Hope is that One will be waiting there for us and give us validation of the Hope we held near and dear on this side.

While peeling apples in the middle of the night with a contented cat under my bare toes, I remembered Susie's life here on earth. in "Remembrance" I offered her a bowl of applesauce hoping that we never forget her in our busyness.

One day while driving to the mountains for a Sunday hike I killed a cat on the highway. This is something I have always dreaded doing, especially since I considered cats highly virtuous creatures of civility. In "Lament" I pondered the unknown fates that brought us to the same place in space and time. I wondered if some child cried that night, unable to find a prized pet. Worse yet, did that child find the evidence of my misdeed?

At Susie's wake I found her enshrined in fragrant floral cascades. "Wake" makes note of the people we rarely see and saw this time only because a death had brought them out of their frenetic busy schedules. Susie offered them a chance to slow down and ask themselves where they are going in life. Susie would know.


Backhoe

A dear friend has just flown beyond,
to that place from which postcards never come.

Raw earth, newly dug, squints in the brightness of day,
still used to its subterranean darkness.

You rest, your hydraulics still creaking,
your yellow earth-stained maw downcast.

We survivors take refuge in life,
our young traveller in her mahogany shrine.

The preachers tell us of hope and safety,
the raw still-steaming earth, of brutality.

Family and friends disperse to life,
seeking to believe the message heard.

You consign our young flower to the blackness,
your maw re-filling the earthen void.

The Son has risen, to meet our traveller.


Orchid

You come to me in your hour of great anguish;
the sands are nearly gone from your glass.

Your blossom too, is fading, your spirit heavy,
your pain reminding you of the shortness of time.

I too know loss, my blooms quickly fail;
much of life for me is without color.

I most often being little more than weed,
rarely enchant you with my splendor.

You, a young flower in His image, fearful of fading,
come share in the fragrance of my bloom,
delight in the vibrancy of my spectral outburst.

For a moment, we will share our blooms together,
remember me in your darkness,
it is in darkness we best rest.

We will both bloom again,
I for but a short season,
For you, your sands will never again fail.


The Gardener tends us both.


Traveller

You have gone before us to a far place,
as yet uncharted on the maps of life.

Quietly, in a star-studded void of night,
you steal away with unsaid words of farewell.

Our dreams of shared journeys shattered,
your destination is veiled in mystery.

Golden hues of dawn scream out in pain,
loneliness is our wordless companion,

Circadian monotony drives our days forward,
your silence deafening us with anguish.

The glare of solar fusion wilts our hope,
vast emptiness devouring our substance.

Flecks of luminous color dapple our hearts,
quiet peace cooling incendiary despair.

Silence gives way to blessed assurance;
traveling with us until we again touch wings.

The Pilot stands a'fore us,
guiding us to your port.

Dusky iridescence gives way to celestial diamonds,
mapping His Way with Hope.

Put the key under the mat.


Remembrance

It is the middle of night,
yesterday having been gone an hour.
All is pleasantly quiet in our lives.

Peeling summer apples with their solar bounty,
rubbing the cat's fuzzy head with my toes
pleasant thoughts of you give me pause.

When you left so early, time wavered,
leaving us lost in idle desolation,
wondering how we could go on without you.

Our lives have gone on these months;
busyness creeping back in from the edges;
The cacophony of our crisis slowly receding.

Cinnamon fills us with it's promising aroma.
My feline friend embraces the sanctity of our moment.
Recollection of your smile fills my soul.

Would you like some apple sauce?


Lament

Solar radiance illuminated your day,
promising hours of frolicking feline fun.

The rising astral pendant gilded my day,
offering omens of actualization and catharsis.

Unknown to us both, our paths converged,
shared ignorance keeping us in summer bliss.

Serpentine ribbons of asphalt beckoning,
I set off for ascendant possibilities.

Greener grass on the other side seducing,
you sprinted across into your destiny.

In the fusion of our fates you faltered,
never seeing the apparition that befell you.

Melancholy shadows darkening my soul,
a young child cries, wondering why.

I couldn't stop in time.


Wake

Suddenly, still silence abounds,
there is time for contemplation.

Screaming voices of achievement yield to
small whispers of quiet reflection.

You regret circadian busyness,
crowding out what could have been.

Tentative in spirit, unsure of your words,
you offer hopeful musings to mourners.

You lay ambrosial flowers on my shrine,
encasing me in retrospective affection.

Passing on, I left you in the fast track.
Aromatic gardens beckon a lane change.

In this redolent parlor of reflection,
a Pathway leads to abundant life.

Let me show you the Way.