WARNING
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
Minister Me 