The cemetery view

I live by an old cemetery with a few sandstones amongst the trees, and some new marble ones at the back.

For a long time, I have been afraid that I or my child may be swallowed in our morbid days by this sight, by our fear of death.

But fear of death is only fear of the unknown and fear of change, it is no evil but what we make.

These graves are Death Happened, but also Lives Lived!

How many were short, or lain not to be regretted?

The stones, the words, the few flowers say: however long they were there, here lay people who mattered.

It shines in the darkness, by the shadow of the sun in the trees, by the light of the moon on the grass:

Death is a life lived to the end. These graves are lives loved.

graveyard_MattWharton
“Beautiful graveyard shot” by Matt Wharton, flickr
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The little things

A poem I wrote this week. Thanks for reading!

 

The little things

Fall in love and live merrily, until

the bells ring and you sing

on the most beautiful day of your life!

A book’s ending, it is the beginning.

You hope, and days add on.

 

You move, and you choose

a house for your budget, a present for each muppet,

year, after year, after year,

while they grow old far away from where you are.

You wait, and days add on.

 

A wonder, a miracle!

A new life enters yours in tears and joy,

as they start dying of old age

and others divide their lives’ worth.

You live, and days add on.

 

You fight to agree over main and silly.

Compromise” is a word with a new meaning and

lovers’ love” loses its standing

in those busy days filled with laughs and fear.

You age, and days add on.

 

They eat at your soul those days.

Little by little, they feed on hope

leaving fatigue in their wake.

Dreams slowly vanish, sorrow becomes childish.

And yet… Yet!

You try, and days add on.

 

Source: Costel Slincu, flickr
Source: Costel Slincu, flickr

To my husband

Two short poems that I wrote some time ago thinking of my husband. I know they’re not the best but even after a few years since I wrote them they still ring true 🙂

Pieces

You cannot see what I look for

Sometimes in life, in words, and more,

And I agree, I do not cook,

Instead I know, Ill read a book!

 

So how can we be together

A pair for life like no other?

Though it is true, maybe were not,

Maybe a pair, but for life not?

 

Did I discard, along our way,

Pieces of me so holes may stay?

Or was I lost without knowing,

Before you came, with bits missing?

 

The holes were filled while time went by,

Their shapes still hold, their borders cry,

Seeing you fade, or go, or die,

Visions of grief in my mind’s eye;

 

And there I know this simple truth:

You cannot go and leave me loose;

For thered not be, these pieces gone,

Enough of me to carry on.

 

Home

He keeps life light for me,

A bit less cynical,

A bit less dark,

And slightly more hopeful

That my life is special;

 

Him gone, all is empty;

Frozen, stunned by longing,

Crying, I ache

For a time with meaning,

All is reminding me;

 

Try to sleep, honeybee,

I am here in your cells,

And will be back

To confirm your struggles,

The choices made for me.”

 

Go to bed” he tells me

On the phone, but alone,

Wait to awake,

Not bleeding and not torn,

And the bed not empty.

 

Wait for Home to find me,

And objects their value,

Estranged, they bark,

We are halves, we need two!

We are halves, just like you!

Tea for two, source: John, flickr
Tea for two, source: John, flickr