I stand at the cemetry feeling out of place.
The life of a man, a good man has come to an end.
Downcast eyes, hurried greetings, hugs.
A piper leads us towards the hall.
Catholics buried here says the rusty sign.
Lutherans buried here says another sign.
Greek Orthodox here, the list goes on.
I notice but I don’t respond, the life of a good man who was neither has come to an end.
Where will they bury him?
Outside, in the field, among the sheep, now alone, stands a cross.
Looking through stained glass windows I hear the tones of a well worn hymn.
Everyone is in there I want to get in.
This is my church, the place I belong, Jesus you are the way! Please let me in.
I stand at the door and read the words etched in stone:
I am the…
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