Dale Lloyd

Jonathan, Oh Jonathan—
my best and dearest friend.
How could this have been the end?

Felled by sword—perhaps a spear.
How did that Philistine get so near?

I see you lying on the ground—
sacred silence, not a sound.
And then a final gasp of breath.
But in that moment, before your death,
you gently whispered my name
and said, “Long live the king.”

Of this, the maidens in Israel
will surely sing.

Oh Jonathan, how can I live,
knowing what you were willing to give—
even your claim to Israel’s throne,
refusing to claim it as your own?
For me, you laid your royalty down,
surrendered the right to wear the crown.

You said that it belonged to me,
against your father’s wrath, the tide.
You were content to serve
while walking at my side.

We were kindred spirits—
we thought and moved as one.
In friendship, there simply was no other.
Our souls were joined,
closer than twin brothers.

Oh Jonathan, my tears fall down.
Like rain, they splash upon the ground.
There they mingle with your blood—
your sacrifice, your life.

I’ll carry you, my faithful friend,
far more than just a memory.
In spirit you’ll always be here,
a living part of me.

Oh how much I love you.
You are my heart,
my soul,
my being.

So let us walk on
in eternal friendship,
until hope gives way
to seeing.