Death of the Bishop

June 2025

In this old year of 1883
A bishop has passed
In his old Sante Fe community

The first of his kind
To run these empty hills of sand
To bring god to a godless plain
With his previous self left in the Old Land

Take heed, of this noted death
His community lies on the ground
Waiting for a sign from above
Waiting for a heavenly sound

Though many may not know his name
And many never will
He rocked the earth where he stood
And people talk of him still

A crater he left here
Which never will erode
Though one cannot see it from space
Round here it’s all that’s knowed

Brown and yellow and white
all held their hands
And solemnly hummed
as friends took the stand
And brought to life
this dead missionary
Brought him back once more
Again out of history

He came in a long ago time
where not much stood here at all
Except natives and their land
who together stood proudly tall

They liked his love
They liked his kindness too
He showed love to all
Especially to those he knew

So let’s behind Bishop Latour
A model for a man, and so much more
He is as we all should be
Under this mighty spirit
Let’s be all we will ever be
Lest we will not will it