Grief

Two were gone before that night.

One from death and one from spite.

Death was barely in the ground,

When the hurtful words of spite were found.

And now with tears upon my bed,

I mourn the living and the dead.

The Chase

 *this is my attempt at cowboy poetry.  It is based on a story from my teenage years.

We hopped on the motorbike 

My lasso was slack

My pardner was drivin’

And I’m on the back.

We entered the pasture

And spotted our prey

His head was down 

He was eatin’ some hay.

We revved up the engine

And the doggie did run

We were bouncing along 

And having some fun.

When out from the barn

A man came a runnin’

A wavin’ his arms to put

A stop to our funnin’.

You boys are a drivin’

This doggie half dead.

But I’m tryin’ to

Fatten him up, he said.

Get out of my pasture

Put your motorbike away

Go find another place to

Have fun today.

Memorial Service Musings

 

Will I float away like a balloon rising into the sky? 

Or will my body disintegrate into a million particles, like a Star Trek teleport,  only to be reconfigured again in another dimension?  

Will I step through a doorway?

Or will I emerge from a cocoon as a new creature?

I truly don’t know, and it’s interesting to speculate, but whatever path I take, I WILL see Him face to face.

Oh what a glorious day that will be.