Not Ready


The following poem is a reflection on one of the most difficult funerals I have ever had to lead. It contains upsetting themes. If it leads you to a dark place, please take time to talk to someone, anyone, about how you feel.

For some things, you are set

You know how to prepare

You get appropriately dressed

Brush your teeth, do your hair

Even when things are hard

You can make yourself ready

Practice the words

Keep your voice nice and steady

Stay on top of emotion

Keep it bubbling below

Showing no cracks

Keep the pace and the flow

You can do this, you think

It’s your job to get through

But the surprise when it hits

Almost paralyses you

10 minutes old

That’s all that they saw

The tiniest of souls

Knocks on heaven’s open door

Stood on church steps

It’s gets even worse

As you suddenly realise

They won’t need a hearse

The shock of a coffin

Cradled by hand

A parents pain

I can’t understand

I wish I could have done more

I wish I’d know what to say

But nothing I could do

Would temper the sorrow that day