In Memory of Steve Herod

You got away from me, Steve
Before I got to say goodbye.
You took the road out of here,
quietly, quickly.
We've said our farewells dozens of times
always knowing we would meet again
sometimes....either later or sooner.

In spite of distance, we had a brotherhood that kept us close
We piled up memories behind us
We stood together in the ashes of a burned down church
We climbed ladders on a roof top where a tornado ripped a steeple
We poured foundations and put the footprints of my children in them
and declared to each other that whatever else we did
these labors would last.
So, we did try to feed the hungry
And we did try to clothe the naked
And we did try to help the helpless
And that was when we mutually discovered that "the least of these" was us
For we met such beautiful people
Whose soul struggle, courage, and indomitable spirit
Strengthened and challenged us.

I still have the knife you made me.
And I still recall with smile and pleasant laughter
our walks in the river basin
and the arrow heads you hid for finding

Whatever part of Indian was in you...I admired it.

I sat with you among the fragments of the Cherokee nation
I admired the relics you excavated from Cherokee history and kept in hallowed memory.

When it rains, my little finger still hurts,
Where you almost broke it. Remember?
Our hands gripped in prayer when you suddenly tried to pass a kidney stone.

You were quiet, Steve, so quiet
It took me two years to get to know you
But after two years I finally learned to listen to your silence
I figured out how you talked with your eyes
And communicated with your grin
I liked the shrug of your shoulders
And became relaxed in your laugh.

We always said that when we got old
We would remember together the things God led us to and through
We made the bet that we were making the right choices those cold
Saturday mornings when it was just you and me

But you got away from me, Steve,
Before we ever got to have any of those conversations
We don't get to become old men together

And you have taken up your residence now in that place already prepared

And could you whisper down to me, I think I know what you would say
I think your eyes would twinkle, you would grin and laugh
And leave me to figure out the rest.

Take rest my brother, take rest
And take joy in the magnificence of glory
God has called you home.