Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Poem for Far Into the Future (I Hope!)
When the end sneaks upon me
(it will, and I’ll let it)
No fancy funeral
But an Irish wake full of friends, family . . .
And joy of you all being together
(and you being the very youness of you).
I hope it’s in the summer
In our big back yard, the kids playing like there’s no tomorrow
Only now now now.
Jimmy and Kevin, beer in hand, laughing and holding forth
Ed telling lies, the boys
The boys, Colin and Robby, being boys.
No fancy casket, a little box of ashes,
Some strewn over the Big Lake, some
In the beloved sugar maple woods,
Some buried in All Souls (where in a future day,
My ashes will mingle with yours,
For ever and for ever and for ever).
A Catholic funeral, to be sure,
But only by some renegade priest
Who loves the Truth more than the bishop
And maybe sweet Irish whistle music
Filling the air, O’Carolan’s Sí Bheag Sí Mhór, and
His “Farewell to Music.”
“Lord of All Hopefulness,” and
“How Can I Keep from Singing?”
And I hope you are hopeful and singing
And the Girls are all thriving
And you find love again
And healing and peace
(And know that I am grateful
For it all).
[Bob Coughlin / May 21, 2014]