I wrote this poem in a hotel room a few hours after my grandmother's funeral. The words had been ringing in my ears all evening. I am so thankful for hope even in grief. Redemption is a tender comfort in death's pain.
darkened room
somber mood
lifeless face
casket closed
weeping eyes
tender hugs
heads are down
memories pulse
I look around this room of death
to see the smoldering flame of life
exterminated--
faces composed of reserve
repress the flood of emotion
waiting to surge
innocent eyes meet the truth:
death is closer than we feared
life is passing like a storm
as a sunset or the dawn
the light changes colors--
we are left alone in the dark
existence leaves a painful mark
human fate is sealed
gravity presses against our dreams
time we have or have not
brings strange focus
if life is short, where is the sweet?
hearts burn for hope
for purpose
for passion
hope is springing amidst the cold reality
from a source few think true--
but it throbs within every soul
like footsteps walking a lantern
into each dark chamber of your mind
searching for a wick to ignite
purpose is found in a simple story
painting dusty roads, thirsty people, a crucifixion
blood spills from a perfect mind
shame is draped upon a sinless form
and in a murder true life is found
passion seizes those who trust
in this man upon the cross
a small spark in a dying field
quickly unfurls and consumes it all
at last, we are found
the casket can be lowered
and covered beneath
but hope cannot be contained
it must be released
darkness has no choice but to flee
in the presence of a light
on the alter of a soul
redeemed and rescued by Jesus Christ
no fear can settle
no pain can desecrate
a life immortal and everlasting
stamped with crimson love
