Soft

That was how

You lived, and how

You came to die, not even knowing:

      How hard I struggled to say “The needle, then”

      How hard I cried (so unmanly? didn’t care) to let you go

      How hard to stroke your graying head, for the last time

      How hard the surging clouds strewed overhead, as if the skies, shattered, wept with me

      How hard to see the sudden question in your eyes;

And harder still your calm acceptance, trusting me

Trusting – as you always have – to the very end

Softly knowing – as you always knew –

      That all the world could hardness be, yet never

      Would you question this one truth:

            that I loved you

      Or this one right:

            that I would never wrong you

Dumb beast? perhaps you were, yet

There was

      A wisdom in your life that far outswept

      The frantic clamor of this loveworn world

There was

      A gift

      That, bitter as it was to softly then surrender,

      Speaks to my heart the peace of a faithful, also-grieving Giver

      To Whom all things must one day quietly return, and

      There is

            The faintest hint

            In all this sorrowed, wasting world of leaving,

A mighty whisper, soft as dying love:

      Of

            Home.

Photo credit: Sbojnik

Author: Jeremy Vogan

My name is Jeremy Vogan. I live in Staunton, VA with my wife and four kids. I love to write, and seek to honestly explore the intellectual and emotional implications of following Jesus as a deeply broken person in a twisted, cruel world that is full of veiled beauty and meaning. Writing is part of how I faithfully look for Jesus Christ to someday make all things new. I'd enjoy hearing your feedback! JV