Certain

Death's finalty for those who know not Christ, it's raw.
Death opens gapping jaws and swallows people whole.
Death creeps up unexpected, stealing, destroying, ravaging.
Death hurts.
Death separates.
Death wins.
For certain.

Three in forty days.
Plus two unmet, unseen, but anticipated.
All gone.
For four the wound of years ago re-opened, exposed.
Second mom, second death, second time orphan, standing at the edge of earth.
Certainly unexpected.

Death. Dirt. Burial.
A widow's hair hangs grey, limp as tired eyes roam sad in deep set sockets.
Knee to knee.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Back against a wall.
Sob in the face of death the conquerer.
Certain it will come again.  Death.

May the mourners be blessed.
May the mourners be blessed.
May the mourners be blessed.
To see His goodness in the land of the living.
And step from life to life.
For Certain.