In Memoriam to the Ghosts of Silent Funerals.

No moment of consciousness dawning
that with the Angel of Death you have flown.

No phone tree speaking the words
among friends and loved ones
that you have gone.

No memorializing Obit
that with your picture in the paper
appears.

God only knows the hearts untold
now left aching with uncried tears.

No appointment with the Funeral Director
to honor what final wishes might be.

No "impossible decisions" in Time
will endear these moments to me.

No program to hand gathered mourners
seeking solace and communion in grief.

Your songs and stories left unsung
as though slain by a silent thief.

No Pall Bearers to carry your caskette
for remains underground to inter.

Or urn to contain silken ashes
soon scattered on the winds over Earth.

No chance to express all my feelings
or close our door as you left.

How I pray for redemption between us
as my Soul seems endlessly bereft.