Footsteps fell
flat on December pavement.
Shoulder slouch,
hands do not
gesture. No eyes meet, and people speak
in whispers.
Gloom is our color,
and pallor our friend. Our whole world is s
tunned, since we
never believed
in his mortality. But it is true. Shawn Brown
has left Creede.
He was a fire
cracker from the very first...a brilliant blaze
of color that
lit up the grayest
sky, making every day, every moment
with him the
Fourth of July.
But like
all fireworks, he faded into the night,
and we must be
content only to dream
of his clarity, his honesty, his brass.
One look
in Shawn's eyes and you knew
what his mission was on earth: fun.
And he never
out-grew that, never got too
cool, too tired, too jaded. Every day was new,
and an
adventure to be celebrated.
That's why we loved him so.
He taught
us such a love for life was possible.
He showed us, through his art,
through
his work.... that there was beauty in
everything, and that we could gape at everything
in our lives as
though we were
all children gazing at our first Christmas tree.
It is so
very hard to imagine life
without him. But I believe Shawn
has found a
home, a place were he can play
without ceasing, a place where
he can draw all
over the walls of the house of his
heavenly father and never run
out of ink, or
of space. A place where love, love
eternal and overflowing, surrounds him,
keeping him
forever the happy kid we will
always know. Shawn was pure love,
and, as the
Psalmist said, Love cannot be
quenched or swept away. S
Shawn
has not died. For in the love of God, nobody dies.
We will see him again.