#410 Stephen Murray Poem by Jimmie Arrington

I sit here lost in thought and prayer,
Reflecting upon his days,
When I note my reflection there
On the casket's polished glaze.

I see my face, my mourning eyes,
My sullen and furrowed brow.
I know the spirit never dies
So he must be near right now.

With that thought, I alter my mood
And ponder about the day
When we'll meet in the multitude
After life has passed away.

I ruminate on his kindness,
His loving words and his deeds.
I mull over his blindness,
He'd help anyone with needs.

I see myself and wonder how
I can become more like him.
Here now I make a solemn vow
To live with vigor and vim.

I wonder about his younger years,
Long before I knew him.
Then a new train of thought appears
As we sing a closing hymn.

This song creates a wondrous thought,
A short phrase to dwell upon:
Though a memory, never forgot.
Though departed, never gone.

Soon two dates will be etched in stone
With a small dash in between.
While numbers mean nothing alone,
The small dash means everything.