31/03/2025
In a quiet room where shadows fall,
A gentle touch, a reassuring call,
With hands that know the weight of grace,
The funeral director stands in solemn space.
He weaves the stories of lives once bright,
In whispered tones through the softening light,
Each soul a tapestry, each heart a thread,
In the quiet hush where the past is fed.
The scent of lilies, the taste of tears,
He navigates through the pain and fears,
With dignity wrapped in a calming care,
He holds the weight of love laid bare.
In tailored suits, he walks the aisle,
A steady presence, a reassuring smile,
He listens closely, for words often fail,
In the silence that hangs like a delicate veil.
Each casket, a cradle, where memories lay,
A final journey at the end of the day,
He crafts the farewell with meticulous hands,
As mourners gather, their hearts in bands.
The music whispers of laughter and loss,
A journey remembered through shadows it toss,
With every detail, he honors the past,
A legacy cherished, a love that will last.
In the depth of sorrow, he finds the light,
A guiding star in the darkest night,
With compassion that echoes through moments profound,
He fosters the healing through worlds unbound.
A bridge between realms, where moments meet,
He helps us find solace in sadness, so sweet,
Through stories and pictures, he binds the thread,
In every goodbye, there’s something unsaid.
For memories linger, though bodies may part,
He nurtures the bonds that dwell in the heart,
As he guides us through this tender farewell,
In the grip of our grief, there’s a soft, gentle swell.
So here’s to the ones who walk this high road,
To the funeral directors, a heart-laden load,
In the silence they carry, the love they impart,
A sanctuary built for the broken-hearted art.
In every farewell that draws us near,
They remind us to cherish, to hold what is dear,
With every farewell, a new start we find,
For love is eternal, forever entwined.