Shunned At A Funeral - The Poor Man's Funeral

She sat alone in the second room
Hands folded tight, head hanging low
Polished wood and borrowed flowers
Ticking clocks and wasted hours
There he was in borrowed
Suit too big upon his chest, and all she saw were empty days, dreams
Deferred in quieter ways
You preached your whole life to half a
Room, same cracked pews, same
Borrowed tomb.
Sunday
Mornings, folding chairs, hope
So thin it barely cared
You could have been something
You could have climbed, left
That church, changed your time, but you
Stayed broke in a town
That knew
How to measure worth by revenue.
They'll
Say you were kind, they'll say
You were good, but kindness
Don't pay like money should.
You're the poorest man this town has
And singing] known, and now
You're lying here alone
The poorest man in town
They'll say
Lived small, prayed hard, gave life
Away, nothing to show but worn-out
Hands, a name no one
Would understand
Then a hand touched shoulder
Light, she turned half angry, half polite.
An old man bent with borrowed years
Eyes still bright behind the tears.
He
Said, "Your father brought me soup one
Night when
I was sick and losing
The fight, sat with me till
Morning came, said
I was worth remembering
Then a woman from the back row stood
Close still smelling
Faint of wood, said he fixed
My roof, didn't charge a dime
Just said
God's house includes mine
Another voice, then one more still, each
With a story, each with a fill
Her right to work, a prayer at dawn
Meal that showed up right when hope was gone.
And every name he never
Kept, every dream she thought he'd left
Was standing now and breathing
Full life.
Quiet seeds he'd always sown
The poorest man in town, she thought
With nothing earned and nothing
Bought, but every hand that reached for grace
Was carrying his fingerprints
He never stored what rust could steal
Never chased what a wound could heal
He spent his life on things
Unseen, but everything on what they mean
What she called a loss, she called a
Cost, what she called wasted, heaven
Called washed.
And suddenly
The math felt wrong, the ledger
And singing] didn't sing that song
He was the richest man in town though
He never wore a crown
Every life he lifted up was a treasure
Filled to overflowing
Cuz he was the richest man in town
Measured not by
What he found
But by
The souls he carried home and the seeds
He never saw
Fully grown.
He was the richest man in town he
In town he
In town
She leaned in close
Said soft and clear
I see it now sighs
You were wealthy here