Thursday, May 26, 2016

Rik George writes

Remembrance Sixteen
The dead, men say, shall tell no tales. 
Their histories are all complete
Written down by angels and put 
On shelves near Heaven’s judgment scales.

Does some jury of seraphim 
Review the stories written there
Lest falsehoods the true records impair 
And expose the angelic host to shame?

Or do the angels write things down 
With fiery quills on pristine sheets
Split from marble?  Do they take notes 
So every stroke is rightly done?

Or do the angels stand amazed 
As humans ramble through their times,
Their petty couplings, their paradigms 
Of right and wrong, their squabbling ways?

Who knows what angels do for fun? 
Or are they ever solemn folk
Who pass their time in sober talk 
About what God has lately done?
 Holy Cross Cemetery, Menlo Park, California


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