Disposition...

I found out that Rolf, my friend of former post fame, was cremated yesterday. It's a natural thing, ultimately the way I would prefer to be dealt with, but still, that image is largely inconsistent with the other images in my mind. So, in order to reconcile it, in true Rolfian fashion, I decided to learn about the history of cremation. Of course, this comes from a site than is trying to sell us something, but then, we're all trying to sell something aren't we?
Right about now, I'm trying to sell you on how great a guy Rolf was. And so, to assist me, I will include another poem, this one written by myself, because I like it and it makes me think of him the way I think he ought to be thought of. Plus, I put that I include poems in the blog on my header, and I didn't want anybody to think I was being cryptic or forgetful.

TO ROLF: A DEDICATION

A warrior and man of God devout
Whose swords have all been beaten into pens
That stab the bloody heart ‘til it comes out
To dance, free of its armor once again

A son of encouragement you were
Your heart upon your sleeve beneath a grin
You never let a lady face a door
But opened it so she could enter in

You forged through painful living as a knight
Whose spirit shone through darkness dense as clay
You sang of bloody histories at night
You spoke in brutal honesties by day

Your voice had all the thunder of a war
Your eyes were warm and tender in their stare
You leave us with more wisdom than before
And fires burning brightly everywhere

Your feet, no strangers to the road beneath
Never tire’d of your holy quest
Until the pen lay empty in its sheath
And God above had called you to your rest

I’m honored to have known you for my part
To laugh and cry, but most of all to learn
Your words as careful arrows pierced my heart
And in a pile there began to burn

Nowhere in the arc of your brief path
Were angels less than moved, and to applaud
For demons twisted, suff’ring in your wrath
This day delivered to the hands of God

Your Epic lies within the hearts of those
Whose lives you touched and spirits you composed

(And with that, I shall return to work...)