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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1721316-Graveyard
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1721316
Sometimes facing mortality, we learn to appreciate life.
Graveyard

Cloudless night skies.
Distant blue and white lights,
above the moonlit rows of stones,
etched with the remaining significance
of the entity that lies beneath.

We disregard the paths
and disregard the rows between the stones.
And we walk on
following each other.

The timeless eyes of death surround me.
Moonlight plays games with erratic trees.
We find an open field,
of soft soil where future graves are to be dug.
We lay down
in the positions we will eventually assume
for the remainder of eternity.
We watch the sky.
It is eternal.

Silence answers
the eyes of death that surround me.

I think to myself
and try to quiet my fears
about the death that surrounds me,
about my life here,
and how lucky I am,
to be given even this small space in time
to enjoy the beauty
of a world too often taken for granted.

And I think to myself
to quiet my fears
that all this death
is to make room for new life.
And I hear a bird.
I hear a cricket.
I hear a frog
I hear my friend’s breathing.
I hear the campus bell toll midnight.
And I smile.
Thank you.

My life begins now.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1721316-Graveyard