In all of God’s worlds, in the whole of creation,
Never has there been, nor will be, such a being,
Philosopher, editor, sharp-witted contrarian,
Endless communication, not once a key keying.
The son of a preacher would reform the tradition,
Climbing Calvin’s Ladder above the theological fray,
Yet grounded by Gwen’s unexpected expectation,
Blazing terminal inertia with Eerdmans did he stay.
Stay he did, through Presidents Johnson through Obama,
Authors, colleagues bettered, as iron sharpens stone,
Able to better any author, from Calvin to the Dalai Lama,
Would they have listened to him loquaciously intone.
His craft extends from books to persons unaware,
A desk for a boat, time for friends, for grandchildren,
Wishes and prayers, as he fares where he will fare,
Many will miss the wise steps of our fellow pilgrim.
Grace for the days ahead,
Gratitude for the days behind,
Bittersweet the moment,
Until we fellowship,