For Friends Twice Bereaved at Christmastime
Not for you, this year, the easy laughter,
The feasting and teasing and drowsy smiles,
Wading through mountains of discarded wrapping paper
To find the child asleep in the box her treasure came in.
This year the cat will curl on your lap
And reach up his paw to touch your cheek,
Because he knows that wetness does not belong there;
This year the child, now grown, will rest her head
Against your knee, and weep, all gifts pushed away.
That song the angels sang
Will be a clashing, rending dissonance;
Not for you, this year, the hymns of hope and love.
Jesus wept
At the passing of Lazarus,
Wept though He knew his friend would soon live again,
Wept though He knew this new life would be His doing,
Wept though He knew as none other could
How truly all mourners shall be comforted.
It is too soon to think of comfort now.
Never be ashamed to weep.
He who has the right to scoff at Death and Time together
Wept for them both, long years ago.
Today, tears are the proper sacrament.
But as you weep, believe, as best you can:
There will be a tomorrow.
The feasting and teasing and drowsy smiles,
Wading through mountains of discarded wrapping paper
To find the child asleep in the box her treasure came in.
This year the cat will curl on your lap
And reach up his paw to touch your cheek,
Because he knows that wetness does not belong there;
This year the child, now grown, will rest her head
Against your knee, and weep, all gifts pushed away.
That song the angels sang
Will be a clashing, rending dissonance;
Not for you, this year, the hymns of hope and love.
Jesus wept
At the passing of Lazarus,
Wept though He knew his friend would soon live again,
Wept though He knew this new life would be His doing,
Wept though He knew as none other could
How truly all mourners shall be comforted.
It is too soon to think of comfort now.
Never be ashamed to weep.
He who has the right to scoff at Death and Time together
Wept for them both, long years ago.
Today, tears are the proper sacrament.
But as you weep, believe, as best you can:
There will be a tomorrow.
posted by Stormchild at 24.12.08
2 Comments:
This is truly beautiful, I am assuming you are the author, since you always give references otherwise.
There are no words to comfort grief, that is true, but the presence of friends who understand your pain and don't try and distract you from it are always a help.
Thank you, Meg. Yes, I wrote this, late yesterday evening. My friends have suffered two bereavements in as many weeks, just before Christmas, and they were very much in my mind on Christmas Eve.
I can't bring myself to post joy of the season here, knowing what they have lost, and that they mourn. He said that those who mourn are blessed, in that they will be comforted; we tend to forget that in saying this, He also granted us the right to mourn as we must, when we must...
Blessings to you this Christmas.
Storm
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