Our Final Prayer

The scent of pine and earth overwhelmed the calm, hazy air.
The cry of the rooster and the beating of hooves upon the gravel, the horses’ manes billowing in the breeze
Weary goats sulked about the barn as the vivacious dogs incessantly barked.
And in my childhood, I run madly from one animal to the next, caught in the frenzy of the typical morning on the farm.

Repulsive white walls stood before me, with endless doors streaming down a single hallway.
Anxiously awaiting the doctor, with cousins, aunts, and uncles
The fumbling of thumbs, occasional apprehensive glances, but most of all, silence
The man adorned in a coat of white, detached, impassive his face was, as he delivered the news.
Hot tears flooded from my eyes as I looked at the still body with the heart monitor shrieking, the mountainous lines crushed in to a uniform plain.

Boys dressed in jet-black suits, with minute passion red roses resting on their shirt pockets.
And girls clothed in pure white dresses, flowing from their thin waists to the height of their knees.
I held my vivid rose, and strolled up the stairs, to the stage, to receive my diploma, looking out upon the same audience for the last time.
Heads bowed and hands clasped, we prayed our final prayer.