I was at St. Mary's, attending the hymns and prayers,

My friend, now gone. The first funeral I've ever attended,

The readings, Lazarus' rise and the promise made,

Seemingly absurd,

"I am the resurrection and the life,

The one who believes in me will live,

even though they die;

and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.

Do you believe this?”

My thoughts turn to the answer:

"Are you fucking kidding!?

My friend who lays here dead 

Lived by believing in you

And even when in doubt

Cast her eyes to your word for answers,

I will not believe that promise for this,

But neither will I assign blame on you,

For that is the due of those who caused it,

The car crash that claimed her life.

That,

I came to pay my respects to her and her family,

And not to listen to a sermon not withstanding"

My thoughts remain known only to me,

Almost startled out by the sight of the small coffin,

All around, friends and family grieving, crying

So many old friends, seemingly,

Only an occasion so startling could again congregate,

The final prayers are said,

The event, still surreal in my mind,

Only to become more so,

At the cafe that had been closed,

To cater only for those who attended,

As the solemnity of the event seemed to disappear,

As the sparkling conversation, burst into a roar,

Of the hundreds that had arrived,

And cake was loaded on to cardboard plates,

Accompanied by squash, tea or coffee,

Like my youngest sister's last birthday party.

If not for the pain of my shoes,

Both rubbing the skin off my feet,

I would have dismissed it a particularly distasteful dream,

After the journey home,

During the night,

I was trying to sleep,

Then the full weight of it dawned.