Sitting in the front pew of the sanctuary
where the family name has been carved
by years of dedication and worship.
Gazing upon my mother
laying there fully presented for her home going.
The drum rolls keep leading up to this moment
only taking a break to change the tension.
Wanting to stand but my legs went on strike
keeping me anchored in my seat.
Raising my hands with no reservations
moving my head and shoulders to the highs and hooks of the music.
Clapping vigorous thunder
purging anything that wasn't forgiven.