In memory of MZ Ribalow
There is no hope for anyone; we all
Will bend the knee to this low world’s great king
Whose harsh but gentle voice will one day call
Our lives out of the songs our bodies sing—
A song that has such supple harmony
That when one voice is silenced, we can hear
The loss in every note—hear bitterly
How all is doubtful that was once so clear
And how your death untuned the world forever.
And we can mourn this emptiness, or prayFor understanding; we can vow to never
Forgive the God who took you, or just say
“You’re in a better place.” But that’s not true.
The only better place was here with you.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells