A neighbor died this week. He was a fixture at St. Olaf Church, a small country church with a congregation of less than a hundred. Every Sunday, for many years, John would ring the church bells for the beginning and end of services. It was something small he did that not everyone noticed, but was part of the worship.
Next week someone will take up his role, but no one will do it better.
John’s hands gripped St. Olaf’s bell tower rope,
Sounding God’s message of forgiveness and hope.
A practiced cadence and years of measured strokes,
His special gift; a heartfelt call he shared with prairie folks.
Ring out the sound of salvation; Ring out God’s loving call
St. Olaf’s tower won’t be silent; John’s soul rings for us all.
Eyes open life’s gone
Shrouded body – clouds of steam
Last rites lit by flare
Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge 179 Flare / Steam
Last week I lost my sister to the ravages of diabetes. Jo’s battle was courageous, she was a fighter to the end.
We gathered Saturday morning
Too late to say good-byes.
We grieved for an unexpected casualty,
For my sister who had closed her eyes
In church, I sat in silence
Not wanting to say farewell
But a piece of my existence
Was carried off by a distant bell.
I shuffled down a center aisle,
Following my sister’s spouse.
Her son and daughter cried openly,
Suffering in God’s stain glass house.
The church circle provided service,
A lunch to soothe the souls.
Hot coffee for our spirits
And shoulders to console.
While eating we talk of other things,
Cheerful words to fill the air.
Distant memories of a childhood,
Of the sister who was not there.
I’m thankful for the memories,
Of a life that was lived so well.
In time I know I’ll be seeing her,
When it’s time for my farewell.
©2017 Clarence Holm
Ronovan’s Haiku Challenge 98 – Rein and Quest
Heaven’s Purple Rein
Never sought to cause sorrow
This quest’s cold reframe
Shame this music had to end
Gripped in unseen tragic pain