A Prayer From Far Away
James M. Truxell
For G. & B. P.
November, 1998
Sod! I insist:
Do not yield so quickly to the
Grave digger's tool!
Not here! Not now!
Resist!
It is too soon for one so young
To be in your lonely, dark embrace.
I would deprive you,
Greedy earth,
Of this one from us so violently torn,
Like the shovel that now would part your roots.
God! I insist:
Yield quickly to my demand to know
By what rule?
Why her? Why now?
Desist!
It is too soon for one so young
To have 'gone home to be with you.'
I would deprive You,
Yes, You!
Would that I could with that shovel
Visit the back of your cosmic head!
Some small part of me -
The cerebrum, no doubt -
Knows that You aren't like that,
Not really:
Not one to snatch life away
Unfairly,
Absurdly,
Horribly.
Some small part of me -
A synapse or two -
Knows You are not a distant dictator -
Arbitrary and totalitarian in your decree -
Declaring "Take now this one;
And now the next!"
Some small part of me -
A molecule of serotonin dancing on a
Tiny, crowded floor -
Knows that You are among us as
One who also weeps,
Who knows the sting of
Wrongful death,
Absurd, undeserved pain;
As One who
Keeps the promise of
Being
Along side of us in our tears,
As the One who will,
One more time,
Survive our rage and
Yet bring us all -
The dead and those of us who feel
We're dying -
Home.
But tonight the larger part of me, Lord,
Is far from home -
In a country far, far away -
Where now I ask to be handed the
Shovel.
Maybe I'll dig the grave myself,
Maybe lie down in it and take her place.
But maybe not,
For the larger part of me says this night:
"You'd better duck!"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The occasion for this raw poem was learning of the death of the 23 year old daughter of dear friends on Thanksgiving morning. It is theorized that, driving alone with her 16 month old daughter secured in the child seat behind her, she swerved to avoid a deer on the road, went into a skid, hit a tree and was killed instantly. Her daughter survived. By the end of the day I learned the news, this poem insisted its way onto the page.
© 2011 Another-Fine-Mess.com. This poem was first published in A Guide for Caregivers: Keeping Your Spirit Healthy When Your Caregiver Duties and Responsibilities Are Dragging You Down, W. Benjamin Pratt (David Crumm Media, LLC, 2011) and is reprinted here with the kind permission of DCM.
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