
Prayer for the Dying
Meditation on the Living
Oh power behind the veil, to whom in hours
of need and grateful moments the hearts of all
pray, mitigate our suffering, we who
are born but to die, we whose pain is constant
whose pleasures fleeting—such wonders this life
we are blessed to know, or at least experience
and though death must, in its inevitable journey
find us—we would delay it . . .
but that is not our request, we but desire a little more
life, laughter, pleasure, rest a little more
respite from doubt, a lot more comfort from pain
will you not bequeath us this: one lucid hour
painless transition on our day to pass in peace
from this world, into which we screaming made
our ungloried advent, and scratching made our way
can you not in final weeks offer sweet repose
then make such moments as we have with loved ones carry
us on blossoms across that dim transition
to the undiscovered country and seed hope
where peace not grows, that once apart
those who remain hold within sorrowed grief
that eternal thing—that forsake-me-not
within their souls to pad that space which death
steals blind and voids with endless night.
Remind us when loved ones live that life’s value
is self-evident; no vault can store its greatest
treasure in the moment of love: love in the hour
of pain: memory of affection in days of grief:
hope and the right to grieve; the freedom to shed tears
with no thought of rightness or propriety,
for moot are the civilities of the living, of the dying
in the heart of those bereaved forbid it that we
should disgrace each other and this gift of life
in thoughtless acts of intolerance to expression of pain
and loss, and let us instead commune in universal
brotherhood; the dying and the dead give us the grace
to be as we are—to do as we need
and voice the dark terror and pain of grief
until it goes silent and leaves its void,
that darkest hell—whence hope can spring again.
David M Pitchford
Rev. 30 October 2008