MARCH 25, 2012 8:00AM

The Visit

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Cemeteries

 

I know they’re there, beneath the ground;

I doubt they know or care

that I have come to visit them,

and walk among them there.

 

To stroll in serene silence

down the rows of weathered stones; 

to read the words, the names, the dates:

those facts that transcend bones.

 

There is great peace in doing so;

in knowing that to die

is nothing but a part of life:

as they passed, so will I.

 

To wonder on each person’s life

beyond the epitaph:

to sense somehow a whispered word; 

a song, a sigh, a laugh.

 

For these were people, just like me;

each with a real life

that went beyond the tombstone’s simple

"Dear Husband/Daughter/Wife.”

 

I read the dates of birth and death

and picture in my mind

a life lived long or all too brief

fate is not always kind.

 

The ones that most affect me

are those dead in their teens; 

they had the chance to taste of life,

but not what living means.

 

And there are stones whose words are gone,

which strikes my heart a blow;

for those words were the only clue

to those who lie below.

 

For those who feel burdened

by daily stress and strife,

I urge a stroll among the stones

to truly value life.

 

     -- Dorien Grey

 

 

 

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