We remember twenty children, six adults
And far … far … too many gun violence victims before and since.
We remember faces, young and old
Brimming with courage and determination,
Radiating mischief and love,
Faces frozen in time on desks and walls.
We remember tastes that formed and sustained:
Birthday cakes and Thanksgiving, picnics and potlucks –
Family and friends breaking bread together.
We remember joy overflowing,
Laughter reverberating with raucous delight,
Now echoing dimly within.
We remember smells – precious, illusive,
That threaten to unravel composure,
Whisking mourners warp speed to a moment in time, as they inhale deeply,
Holding a memory as long as possible.
We remember grieving hearts in need of resuscitation
Mouth to mouth, chest-thumping assistance
To make it through each day.
Lost in a lingering limbo of despair
Seeking to find footing and rediscover direction.
With each sight, smell, taste, sound
May we remember victims’ dreams and daring
Their curiosity and caring
Striving to honor them with our lives.
May we remember their gifts, irretrievable,
As we pledge to establish a safer world.
©December 1, 2016 Cynthia Langston Kirk
Fourth Anniversary of the massacre at Sandy Hook
To use this or any liturgy written by Cynthia Langston Kirk please include the copyright in your bulletin and/or on your screen. If you want to use the writing in any other way than one time worship use, please contact Cynthia at: email@example.com