The scholarly priest wrote, “Let’s trust that
the beauty of our lives becomes visible
where mourning and dancing touch each other.”
It sounds so poetic, ideal, a theory.
Young seminary students listen
intently with eyes almost teary.
But sometimes for those who have experienced
the cruelty of loss and love robbed
the only dance they know is the dance macabre.
So young clergy don’t go forth with any glib plan;
just sit with the brokenhearted and hold their hand.
Be quiet, be quiet, don’t say a word,
but trust that the beckoning of Jesus
will eventually be felt and heard,
and maybe, just maybe the mourner will see
where lovers touch and mourning
becomes the dance of eternity.