Gone On Ahead
By Tom King
(For Micah)
Going through my picture boxes,
I stumble across his picture ever once in a while.
The first thing I always do
Is sigh and gently smile at the memory it sparks
And laugh a little at some goofy
Joke or stunt he'd cooked up to make us laugh
Long ago when he was still with us.
He'd a talent for snatching humor out of
The gray spaces that often filled his cup;
A militant resistance to the silent struggle that was his.
I stumble across his picture ever once in a while.
The first thing I always do
Is sigh and gently smile at the memory it sparks
And laugh a little at some goofy
Joke or stunt he'd cooked up to make us laugh
Long ago when he was still with us.
He'd a talent for snatching humor out of
The gray spaces that often filled his cup;
A militant resistance to the silent struggle that was his.
Then follows for me, awareness
Of the empty space he left behind
Space he no longer occupies.
No more new stories of times when he was kind.
To some child, sad, lonely or frightened.
Of when he made an effort when it wasn’t necessary.
Of how he gave without benefit to himself;
Out of the goodness of a heart made so,
In the dark valleys and rugged paths
He walked with God for a friend.
Of the empty space he left behind
Space he no longer occupies.
No more new stories of times when he was kind.
To some child, sad, lonely or frightened.
Of when he made an effort when it wasn’t necessary.
Of how he gave without benefit to himself;
Out of the goodness of a heart made so,
In the dark valleys and rugged paths
He walked with God for a friend.
His passing
filled a church on a rainy day
With “his” kids and those who worked beside him.
His memorial was a celebration – smiles and laughter,
Not the funereal sadness you’d expect at such a time,
A bon voyage rather than a final goodbye.
I cannot imagine a universe without him.
Few of us could. It was more like waving after him
At a train station or from a dock as he boarded ship
On a journey ahead in time to a place, a moment
Where we who took a longer route would catch up.
With “his” kids and those who worked beside him.
His memorial was a celebration – smiles and laughter,
Not the funereal sadness you’d expect at such a time,
A bon voyage rather than a final goodbye.
I cannot imagine a universe without him.
Few of us could. It was more like waving after him
At a train station or from a dock as he boarded ship
On a journey ahead in time to a place, a moment
Where we who took a longer route would catch up.
And on that day
when we all together
At last come home. And my son who has gone ahead,
Awakes to find that in his slumber he has reached
His journey’s end, and at that end found those of us
Who stayed behind have got to the station
In time to meet him and the One who brought us this long way.
And we who wept and laughed when we said goodbye,
Will weep and laugh and hold each other fast again
And in the sweet air of that reunion, celebrate with my beloved son
And with God's Beloved Son come to take us home.
At last come home. And my son who has gone ahead,
Awakes to find that in his slumber he has reached
His journey’s end, and at that end found those of us
Who stayed behind have got to the station
In time to meet him and the One who brought us this long way.
And we who wept and laughed when we said goodbye,
Will weep and laugh and hold each other fast again
And in the sweet air of that reunion, celebrate with my beloved son
And with God's Beloved Son come to take us home.
© 2020 by Tom
King
