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Poems of Reflection

Sometimes we get caught up in the day-to-day struggle of just gett'n by. We forget for a moment that our life is a one-shot deal. We forget for a time why we are here.

An important question

Why are we here?

I did ask the question.

But to answer it -

was not my intention.

I would like to defer the answer

to those more wise than me.

The minister, a philosopher,

or a monk - may have the key.

But to this conclusion,

I have been drawn.

Someday, perhaps, not too far away;

We shall all be gone.

What of my life,

will they recall.

The things I did for good?

More likely, nothing at all.

Did I just work for money?

Did I give a damn?

Did I believe in Jesus?

Was my life a sham?

Will I be remembered -

For the roses that I grew?

For the children I raised?

Or for a poem, they once knew?

Will they recall,

when I'm no longer near.

Of my hopes and dreams,

of my frustrations, my fear.

Will they remember

the times I tried, with all of my might,

to do the very best I could.

That I honestly tried - to do right.

Will they ever know of

the anguish, frustration, the torment,

that was suffered late in the night.

Will they recall, how my last days were spent.

As they read the stone above my head.

And my grave, they stand beside.

I pray they recall, there was more to me,

than when I was born, and when I died.

- Dan Turner 10/28/00

I attended the service for a good friend of mine today, Doyle Dugan.

While waiting for the service to begin, I thought of the Doyle I knew. Then came to mind the subject of when it would be my time to join friends and family in heaven. If I might have any special wishes. As I thought of the myriad of things of where, when and how, there was only one thing that came to mind that, for some reason, gave me peace.

If, when I die

If, when I die,

if it wouldn't be asking too much,

I have a solitary request.

I ask to be buried somewhere

where a wild rose might grow

above my grave.

I know I won't be there

to enjoy the small, single, blossoms

each spring nor the red hips in the fall.

But, for some strange reason,

this thought brings comfort

to me now.

- Dan Turner, 6/30/01

Elko, Nevada

Wild Rose at Ft. Halleck Cemetery

Arthur 'Art' Schwandt, 73, of Elko, died Monday, May 6, 2002, at the University of Utah Hospital in Salt Lake City. Today I attended his service at St. Joseph Catholic Church in Elko. I knew Art from the mining industry. Art was hard to get to know, I can't say we were ever friends just our paths crossed on occasions. Art was Manager of Operations for various mining operations when I knew him. I was a lowly engineer. In retrospect, I always found him to be uncompromising in this ethics and beliefs. In reflection, I wrote this short poem at his service.

In Reflection

Seems not so long ago

that the events of this day

never did occur to me.

That we would gather here to pray.

Trying to meet tight schedules

concerned with only the day to day

not focused on the larger picture.

Please dear Lord hear me pray.

Help me to not to forget

to set aside some time each day

to recall where my path does lead.

That for me one day others will pray.

So let me use my time wisely

and waste not another day -

to focus on the bigger schedule.

For this - I now pray.

- Dan Turner, 5/10/02

Elko, Nevada

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"John Michael Pepper, 60, of Elko died Thursday, May 9, 2002, after a long battle with cancer. He was born Sept. 14, 1941, in Carlsbad, N.M. (Elko Daily Free Press, May 10, 2002)

I knew John Pepper for many years in the mining business. I remember him as being 'down-to-earth'. He worked hard, supported and loved his family, and was a good man. I remember him as being always friendly, never complaining, never spreading gossip or bad tales. He enjoyed visiting and was always interesting to visit with. As with many people our paths only crossed now and again. I would sometimes go a year or more and never see him. But when I did we just took off where we had left off. He was special in that regard. He was a friend. When I saw his photo in the newspaper - of his death. I felt sorrow. First for his family then for myself. In the world I inhabit, friends are getting harder to find. More people are just acquaintances, too busy, just wanting something or whatever. As for John, he just wanted to visit with you a bit - shoot-the-breeze. To be a friend. I will miss him dearly.

As an afterthought I want to tell you - John's service was one I will always remember. John's was comfortable, warm and friendly - much like the man I knew.

- Dan Turner, 5/13/02

Elko, Nevada

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On The Day That I Shall Die

The music on the radio will still play.

The sun will come up as it has before.

Stars will still be found in the night’s sky.

The full moon will shine once more.

Kids will still run and laugh and play.

The dogs down the street will still bark.

Cars will still go chugging down the road.

Lovers will still kiss and snuggle in the dark.

The birds will still sing their morning song.

Butterflies will still float through the air.

The roses will again bloom in the spring.

Bees will still gather nectar with loving care.

So do not feel sorrow in my passing.

For I am now at peace - do not cry.

For it will be as I have never been.

On the day that I shall die.

But I ask with great respect.

Do not forget to dream.

Do not forget the virtues of life.

For time rushes by faster than a mountain stream.

- Dan Turner, 11/23/02

Elko, Nevada

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