“Don’t send me flowers when I’m dead. If you like me, send them while I’m alive.” - Brian Clough
All Souls Day on November 2nd is a holy day set aside for honouring the dead. The day is primarily celebrated in the Catholic Church, but it is also celebrated in the Eastern Orthodox Church and a few other denominations of Christianity. The Anglican Church is the largest Protestant Church to celebrate the holy day. Most protestant denominations do not recognise the holiday and disagree with the theology behind it.
Poets United this week celebrates All Souls Day and invites participants to write a poem on ways of honouring the dead and commemorating a soul’s passing. Here is my contribution.
All Souls Day on November 2nd is a holy day set aside for honouring the dead. The day is primarily celebrated in the Catholic Church, but it is also celebrated in the Eastern Orthodox Church and a few other denominations of Christianity. The Anglican Church is the largest Protestant Church to celebrate the holy day. Most protestant denominations do not recognise the holiday and disagree with the theology behind it.
Poets United this week celebrates All Souls Day and invites participants to write a poem on ways of honouring the dead and commemorating a soul’s passing. Here is my contribution.
The Liturgy for the Dead
The heady smell of burning incense
And the drone of the priest’s voice
Reciting the liturgy for the dead.
The chanting of the ancient psalms
And the sobs of the family and friends
Under flickering candlelight.
The cheerless black garments
And the long mauve ribbons
Bedecking glittering icons.
The open coffin on the bier
And the corpse looking like waxwork,
No longer the person we knew and loved.
May he rest in peace, may his soul find repose,
May his memory be everlasting,
May his life have made difference.
Brief is our life like a burning candle,
Our youth as fleeting as a blooming rose
And love as transient as a butterfly.
All in vain, and vanity of vanities,
Our existence is over in the blink of an eye;
We forget while we live that our shrouds have no pockets.
Come all and pay your last respects
To the dear departed, for he will be a long time dead
And you will join him before you know it.
Let us celebrate on this day of his death
For our time in the sun is short
And like a dream life’s pleasures are over before we know it.
Here is the first part of the Greek Orthodox Liturgy for the Dead chanted by Theodore Vassilikos and his choir.
Oh, wow, wow, WOW! First your details bring me there and then the narrator emerges like a prophet, part of the liturgy,and to top it off, this: "We forget while we live that our shrouds have no pockets." A beautiful line, a powerful image. And then the music. Did I mention that your poem moved me? Thank you.
ReplyDeleteToo soon we may be forgotten but not to the people who love us dearly. Loved the detailed observations you painted in the poem.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful poem.Moving ceremony resonating with the spirituality of the ancient psalms.Our existence is over in the blink of an eye. Thank you for reminding me. One of your best Nicholas.
ReplyDelete" May he rest in peace, may his soul find repose,
ReplyDeleteMay his memory be everlasting,
May his life have made difference."
The look back is endearing and wise, the respect of the departed is stirring
much love...
Wonderfully said/expressed in your poem:
ReplyDelete"Brief is our life like a burning candle,
Our youth as fleeting as a blooming rose
And love as transient as a butterfly.
All in vain, and vanity of vanities,
Our existence is over in the blink of an eye;
We forget while we live that our shrouds have no pockets."
Have a very good day and week, too! Best regards in november!
An excellent write. I, too, really loved the shrouds with no pockets.
ReplyDeleteFor our time in the sun is short
ReplyDeleteAnd like a dream life’s pleasures
are over before we know it.
The temporary life-span fleetingly exhaustive makes it urgently necessary to honor those who passed on earlier to await one's turn in just a short while to go!
Hank
Beautiful and existentially perfect.
ReplyDeleteI like how you drive home the idea of the brevity of life. Also, your poem read like a liturgical prayer, it's mood was perfect.
ReplyDeleteWhat an extraordinary poem this is. The final line is so true.
ReplyDelete"....our shrouds have no pockets." wisdom always comes so late....a brilliant piece Nick...
ReplyDeleteA wise, true and brilliant piece of writing.I grew up with the catholic church and I hated to have to visit family passed away and who where " No longer the person we knew and loved"
ReplyDeleteand "And like a dream life’s pleasures are over before we know it" Great line and we should be aware of it and love and live today