Dominus Vobiscum

Within the past month there have been two deaths within the gunblog community. First it was Neptunus Lex, and now I hear that Newbius has passed. I'm sad to say that I never knew either of them, but that doesn't matter; the death of even the least of us diminishes us all.

Not knowing what to say about this, but wishing to pay my respects to fellow members of my tribe, I'll go to my old standby: a poem I made last year for a funeral service of a friend.

CHRYSALIS

To all things there is a season

Even trials which, for no reason,

Seem to strike us down without remorse;

And when our time has run its course

We must remember, through our fears

That we are allocated only years.

We are born into this world

Larval, incomplete, and furled

With no knowledge of what awaits us soon;

And then we crawl into cocoons

Of wood and earth, and thence to die

While all around us, mourners ask God why.

In our rebirth, they cannot see

Our souls borne into eternity

As we emerge from our chrysalis.

And so, my love, I tell you this:

As from eternal grace hope springs

A butterfly begins to spread its wings.

It is my sincerest wish that as they go on to their eternal rewards, they receive a "welcome home" as loving and joyful as this one: