Discovering religion after the death of a loved-one |
This was originally written for the Blue Butterfly competition, which is for Christian poetry. I have uploaded a second poem ("The Commission" ) written for the same contest, but that was accepted for the publisher's anthology. *** The book, weighty as the concepts inside Comforting. It always sat on that same shelf Unread – I never opened it. Then she was gone and I took it down And looked inside. Spidery scrawl inscribing names of People long dead. People with my blood, my ancestors. All subscribed to this, her faith. So I sat, in that dim and dingy living room And read, and the words drew me in. The colours of the images in my head Pulling me close And I remembered the words of so long ago Stories read at bed time The words of her minister And his hand on my arm at the funeral. Not understanding why she was gone And secretly wanting to understand This faith of hers. I picked up her phone and dialled the number Pinned on the board by the door. Arranged to meet him to understand And knew that she had been right. She told me once That one day my heart would open And I’d need him and accept him in my life, But I did not or could not believe And now I finally understood That she was right. And I remembered her telling me that One day she would die to make me believe And my heart was filled with a joy I never though I would feel at this time, Because I knew that she was still living Somewhere with him. |