On my way to work this morning I walked by the scene of something with many first responders standing by and a section of building entrance cordoned off – when I turned my head to look at the site, I noticed a body covered in a white sheet on the ground, about ten feet away from the sidewalk. There was no blood or gore, no other indication that an accident had taken place, just a sheet draped over the form of a body, which could have been anything. You could walk by and not notice – it wasn’t overly dramatic except for the presence of an ambulance – but that body was there in the heart of downtown this morning.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen a body on my way to work, and the last time was *much* worse as a woman had just been hit by a coach-bus and was lying half-under it. She was not covered, and it was not clean. In comparison, this was much easier to take.
But still, I couldn’t help but think about fragility, and the lightness of our beings as I walked by. Of the presence of each and everyone of us, and how quickly that is extinguished – in an instant, on a cold morning, left in the dark.
Temporary though we may be, we hold each other warm in the palms of our hands. And so a whispered prayer for the person whose body lay on the pavement this morning. For the home that is found in dying, for a safe journey there.
And peace to each of you as we prepare for the renewal of the light.
Heard and witnessed.