This poem was inspired by the funeral of a friend.
Closed Casket Funeral
"I am the resurrection and the life!"
A black clad priest recited,
while the wax-like form of the deceased--
death's pallor cunningly hidden
beneath make-up he didn't wear in life--
lay waiting for the resurrection.
One by one we filed
past the open casket,
each of us pausing momentarily
on the husk that waited
for Christ to return.
What were we waiting for,
as we stared
at the still chest and closed eyes
of our friend?
that lived in that body
ascended into the spiritual realm
where he walked
with the Lord Christ
and all who had gone before.
Poet's Note: ▼