The Memorial Prayer

"Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted."
Matthew 5:4 (NAB)

The Memorial Prayers
By Tatiana Pahlen

The priest's hand is touching my lowered head
and I feel reduced
as his prayers swing in my ears like heavy chimes;
I don't grasp the words
and find them a bit of a nuisance,
but I bow my head lower
with each new prayer.
"Blessed art they whom Thou hast chosen and taken, Oh Lord."
I'm not chosen, I gather, but I'm grateful for that, Oh Lord.
"Their souls shall dwell with the blessed. Alleluia!"
Whose? Those 'chosenth and takenth,' I'm reasoning, blessed?
Looking about I see one and all in the chapel singing along.
"Oh Thou Who of old didst call me into being from nothingness,
and didst honor me with Thine image divine."
I move my lips too, abiding the sound,
the chorus is piercing my skin but my brain is calm.
Am I crude questioning
the power of a tranquil prayer?
"Ye who preached the Lamb of God,
and like unto the lambs were slain,
and translated unto the life eternal
Ye holy Martyrs pray who will remission of our sins."
I think of "our sins" and my own sins above all.
I'm grateful for not being taken;
Was I blessed or not chosen, Oh Lord?