A Matter of Life And Death

Everything pointed to life
(Doesn’t it always, at death)
As I watered the wall-to-wall carpet
I don’t know the color, but it soaked up my grief
Strange, the mind can find solace in stained glass and wood and the smell of Methodism
Trace the patterns and grooves to avoid the casket in front of the grieving widow
The windows bled pink in the April sunlight
Hat tip to last Sunday
He died on Easter, oh Jack

And afterwards there is so much life
Every bite of food explodes in your dry mouth,
Starving for more from the sweet Earth
Family feels warmer, blood pumping fast in a panic, white-knuckling life
Praying you’re not next, not just yet
And you could swear you heard him whisper from the grave
Odd how the breezes blow by your cheek like any other Tuesday’s breeze
But it is Thursday and you don’t know how many Thursdays are left
But you count it a matter of life at all costs
To gobble up the Wednesdays too
All of it like he did

But of all the tributes
And all the testifying
The greatest part about this man who loved Jesus
Because he did

The mold was broken after him
And the mold was broken after you and me
And that is a matter of life and death

This, loving people, as they are
Who they are
Mold breakers everyone
In grief life is clearer

My eyes took a poll of the room
They loved him
Well, oh so very well
His daughter held his hand in death
(I vow to hold hands more Mondays and Saturdays in my life)
And he wasn’t like you or like me
He was just Jack

Go live life now
I heard him “loud” whisper from his new life,  as I left a trail of regret in my wake
And please remember to laugh at all my jokes, through that precious impish grin

My heart took a poll at the graveside