edging
Harvey S. Mozolak
 
at the edge
there are stones
we walk along them
beautiful rocks
set for a distant view
with drawings of hope
words of loving remembrance
many sprayed with flowers’ burst
in today’s color
we do not awake in a grave
or commute to cemeteries
only funeral staff work in graveyards
the young are not schooled
with desks among rows of tombstones
but each day is lived along the edge
near the end of time
and the beginning of eternal endurance
where souls are counted
as radiance around the Triune Head
whose words and wisdom
cannot be withstood or contradicted
but heard as invitation
verging beyond as entrance
the universe upheld
growing in a woman’s belly
king to subject among the sticks
November to December’s
raw edge of earth defined by heaven
fringed in straw

Lectionary 33Luke 21:5–19