I’ve never been one to mourn

No, not really, not to truly mourn

I’ve known the sorrow

Of a dear one’s death, sure

But to be true, only so far

For there’s a coward’s gate I close

So as to be the shepherd and eulogizer

For don’t we all agree that a wake

Can’t be led by a weepy mess of a man?

Which is a brilliant excuse for me.

Allowing me to never go alone

To the fullness of mourning.

And I’ve known the mourn

Of my soul laid bear

Illuminated and true,

Seen dark as it is

Without anything redemptive

Save the save of a Savior.

Yes, I’ve felt it

at least a couple of times

As fully as I’ve been able

Without closing it off

So I would be right to say

That I’ve indeed known

A couple shades of mourning

I’ve lost and I’ve been broken, sure.

But merely like a fisherman

Who has sat by the shore

And cast into the waves

Only once or twice

Without the thrill

Of a really good bite or surrender

I’ve got miles and miles

Of mourning to muster

Before happy am I

Or blessed am I

Or comforted am I

Because my proud mind

Knows only

What any proud mind can know

And I want to

Need to,

Still know

What really happened on the cross

And I have to grasp

For I’m sure that I haven’t grasped

What death comes from sin.

Cause I know that death comes

But I think I still need

To be horrified by death’s scope

Not to experience more of it

For I’ve tasted enough of that black,

But to get my mind around

What I have done

To participate already

In the attack of God’s great Name.

I don’t want to wallow in my depravity

But I do want to be broken

And truly sorry

And fully repentant

Farther than I’ve allowed myself to go

Cause as sorry as I am

And as repentant as I have been

And I have been as much as I know how there’s still a lot of standing tall

In my stride

And that

For no good reason

I still find the nerve

To be proud from time to time.

I’ve never

As of yet

Been privy

To the full exposure and knowledge

Of that which I should,

In all truth

Be mourning.

In the slightest part

Sure,

As before

But that gate

I suppose

I pull shut

And that needs to stop

Unknowingly

I’ve prematurely

dried my eyes at every turn.

And declared an end to sorrow

too soon

It’s simply not finished.

The promise is still ahead

So a request, Lord

Help me mourn.