Last Leaf Falling

For Roger

A bit rough around the edges
Said Love
With tears
And a quivering voice
Like the fields he farmed
The soil that felt his footfall
Strong and straight
Not easy then with
Weakness in another
Vulnerability became him
As with surprising grace
He himself surrendered
Allowing us a glimpse
Of something more tender
Praying his way Homeward
With an eye for the frailest
Left behind


He is laid to rest now
In this land that he loved
A calm November day
Sun shining, birds singing
Breeze blowing
Bough of trees bending
River flowing
Rainbow in a clear
Blue sky
Last leaf falling
Whistling in the wind
In this place there is

(Eamonn Monson sac In fond memory of Fr. Roger Rafter sac)