If someone told me, I’d be writing poetry In the dark years after my loss— During the time the best friend of mine Took to join his Lord up above.
Disbelief and the shock, the grief, and the sorrow To pass through the bargain with God— To bring back my friend—no loss in the end Could ignore what I knew in my heart.
It was for sure that he could not return For our walks on the beach and our travel. Our Moon River of living so long with the best Our Bermuda, Hong Kong, and Mount Everest.
We loved our boys and their games, and their friends And their toys, and their music and noise. The four of us were Huckleberry friends who Savored great moments with joy.
Kübler-Ross knew and wrote and told in her book Of the process of life that we live. But to be without him—I had nothing to give Of that life I was left here to live.
Yet the Lord had a plan to put it all right— To soften that miserable blow. He brought in another with an aura of gold— A model of faith to behold. He helped me talk through the feelings I had. He listened and listened some more. As I talked—with his gifts— It was simply as if, I was speaking to God—yet once more.
I explained that my heart was so broken and torn And my spirit was ragged and worn. The aura of gold, like Carl Rogers of old Heard and helped me to sort it all out.
This model of grace lives his love through his faith— With words that allow me to cope— To be heard through the gloom And the fog and the doom That has lifted beyond any hope.
Ross says in the end We must accept all and mend. But she doesn’t advise on a plan. Some question her words and think them prescriptive Of the process we all must endure.
Dylan Thomas would say to those going away— And those who are left behind, Do not go gently into that good night And fight with the time of your life.
The theories are plenty, the experts are many It’s hard to know what to do. But the model of grace comes in their place In a way that transcends all the rest Of the helpers and teachers and courses to learn To face the abyss of death.
To use Ross or Thomas—or anyone else Is really not his concern. His goal is to help you learn how to be Despite the powerful grief. To live each day in a hopeful way And to see all there is with belief.

This poem came to the Center from its author, who asked to remain anonymous. It is published as written, in the author’s revised version of September 7, 2026.

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