Funeral
for a Friend
As I watched a wholly good man’s body
laid into the ground after the requiem,
the missa pro defunctis, I thought how
his kind seem all but extinct now, a priest
with such an honest heart, like the Roman
ring he always wore, pure gold, intagio,
a gem engraved in pastelled cameo.
For
his ways were truly mellow, moderate
and
kind, tender but always unobtrusive
whose lips
had brushed no others’ mouths, only
the pax, the holy kiss of peace at
High Mass
in his sacred monastery. As the
crucifix was laid upon him I considered
his
life, forever enclosed, his spirit
ruled by his
religion
and its cloistered
celibacy. A
force for good passed with
him on that day and
as it rose we were
left miserable and marooned in our
disillusioned, aimless orphan of a world.
Cait O’Connor
4 comments:
Such a lovely tribute.
Cait, you've written well about this fine man.
Though I did not know him, I still felt tears in my eyes as I bid him my own farewell.
xo
Beautiful. Those men are rare and you are lucky to have known one.
Lovely words and sentiment.
=)
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