Mike King

Remember that you are dust,
And to dust you shall return.
 
Remember your death, 
once a day,
It keeps despair at bay,
Drives fear away.
No regret shaped memories
But forward forming faith.
 
Be in the presence, 
a beautiful gift
A death well lived
My mother’s hymn, 
How Great Thou Art
No grief filled grave
But life centred presence.

Pass the torch, 
from slowing hands,
50 years of birthing pangs
11 times rooted in these
lands
No dark apocalypse to come
But a kingdom already, 
not yet
 
Already, not yet