Monday, April 13, 2020

Thoughts after visiting local Graveyards

I don't think the dead mind the living's visits;
That which made them themselves is long gone
And only that which is least them is left.
Nothing sinester lurks on this patch of ground
Set aside to recieve our cherished ones
And mark that they once lived and loved.

Though I never met these people gone long before
Or knew their habits or saw their souls,
When I read their names, in that moment they are remembered.
A name on a stone is dead--just a fact preserved;
But spoken by my living mind and pondered over
That thread in the tapestry of human life shines bright again.

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