Kevin's Watch

Lord Foul wrote:I'm still in awe of where this thread has turned. Has it really hit any of us? Can we imagine? It's definitely more than a message board topic--has been or years, but no one could have told me it would lead here. If there is any cohesive message or hope behind life I think this topic is the leading empirical proof.

At the same time the message of this thread has imparted me with sorrow...of course it has us all. But ultimately hope defying all the world's ill. I'm in shock at how sadly poetic and cyclical this has all turned out to be--from Stephen's first journal entry to this.

Who could imagine? Again--it brings me wonder that there might be something out there--some kind of good will. Perhaps. I hope. I really don't know but I hope a lot more, and I think Tracie would have loved that. She said in our last conversation she prayed for me everyday. I can't imagine better protection, a more humbling and serene thought. Thank you Tracie...so so much.

Take [her], earth, for cherishing
To thy tender breast receive [her].
Body of a [wo]man I bring thee,
Noble even in its ruin.

Once was this a spirit's dwelling,
By the breath of God created.
High the heart that here was beating,
Christ the prince of all its living.

Guard [her] well, the dead I give thee,
Not unmindful of his creature
Shall He ask it: He who made it
Symbol of His mystery.

Comes the hour God hath appointed
To fulfill the hope of men,
Then must thou, in very fashion,
What I give, return again.

Not though ancient time decaying
Wear away these bones to sand,
Ashes that a man might treasure
In the hollow of his hand:

Not though wandering winds and idle,
Drifting through the empty sky,
Scatter dust was nerve and sinew,
Is it given to [human beings] to die.

Once again the shining road
Leads to ample Paradise;
Open are the woods again,
That the Serpent lost for men.

Take, O take [her], mighty Leader,
Take again thy servant's soul.
Grave [her] name, and pour the fragrant
Balm upon the icy stone.

Take [her], Earth, for cherishing,
To they tender breast receive [her].
Body of a [wo]man I bring thee,
Noble in its ruin.

By the breath of God created.
Christ the prince of all its living.

Take [her], earth, for cherishing.

- Prudentius (348-413), from Hymnus circa Exsequias Defuncti translated by Helen Waddell; used with permission