When I feel weighted down by life
I go to the graveyard
Where our long fathers and mothers quietly rest
In their presence
I can lay down the burdens and petty worries of my days
And allow them to take their place in the grand scheme
Like crisp leaves falling down into the rich, sweet humus
I remember that
I am part of something bigger
And even the hardest edge becomes soft
With time
I place a hand on the dark bark of the yew tree
As she bends over the graves
A wise crone whispering secret wisdoms over those that sleep
And I remember that
Living is hard, but life is sacred
Dying is heartbreaking, but death is blessed
When I feel weighted down by life
I go to the graveyard
Where our long fathers and mothers quietly sleep
And I remember.
No Comments