Funeral without a Pastor – I want to wear the wreath of joy, What follows may only be ashes!

Prayer and Meditation

Yes, once a man takes the interest of happiness from his days in advance. And says: I want to wear the wreath of joy, What follows may only be ashes. The full cups! Let's dare everything! Yes, I want to stand up to the midday moan of life and then say at the end.

How beautiful it was! How beautiful was the dream! As we loved each other, roses bloomed around the funeral procession. In the foam of the days that otherwise shattered in vain, there was a pearl, rich and proud enough. I want to wrap my arm around your neck and sound through the distance of memory. If no time can bring happiness back to us - How beautiful it was!

Funeral without a Pastor - Zen Master Reding

I once walked in a valley that was far from the world, close to heaven. The scythes of the second mowing of the year rang through the terrain of his meadows. I walked through the quiet streets of a village. No sound. An old man was sitting alone in front of a hut, abandoned by his strength. And looked at the fir license while celebrating. Sometimes, laying my forehead in my hand, I see the blue sky of that valley.

I see the tired ones again on the snow, looking at the near, blissfully clear snow. It's just a dream. Well is the old man parted from this sun's light, heavy with years. He slumbers in peace in his grave and his bench stands empty in front of the hut. My life is still pulsating fiery. Like the others, a day comes when my strength betrays me. Then I want to hike slowly into the mountains and look for where the old man's bench is.