Funeral Flowers- Poetry

I hope you don’t mind

That when I remember

Your death, I think of

Blooming flowers

And long-cherished hymns

Relics

Of a journey

Laid gently

To rest


In my mind

Ever fresh

Are these symbols

Of more

Than something that passed

Something that left


One white rose

Fell in the rain

It got dirty and broken

On your funeral day


I bent down to lift it

And as I raised up

I felt suddenly

Hope


Your journey

Dear friend

Changed the course of many


It lives in evidence

Of redemption and light

I think of you often

And I wonder at how

From utter destruction

Can rise up

New life

By Erin Rain Gautier, for Bob Whit Henson.

Photo by Erin Rain Gautier

Poetry, FaithErin Rain Gautier