The grave tenders

The Grave Tenders

Alluring  and  hauntingly  beautiful  she stood  against one
shaded granite stone
and I knew it was certainly  her child
as she stood there all alone

I felt guilty witnessing this private moment and
yet I could not look away
I had stumbled upon such a heavenly sight
on that warm summer day

How often to walk alone along this road of summer
and wonder of this mysterious lady
there inside the overgrown cemetery
where the pines grow tall and shady

I hear her whisper a loving prayer in
a voice as soft as an angels breath
and I knew it was her child
laying  in quiet death

I’ve heard it said  that we should only care about today and
those still  in our lives
But who will care for those gone before us
for a husband the children or wives

She bends down now and pulls futilely
at the eternally growing weeds
And I think  why should she not be here if she so choses
for we all are bound to our needs

After awhile I take a chance and walk softly
and slowing up behind
and speak softly so as not to hasten
a few soft spoken words from my mind

“Come my lovely wife  it’s growing late and we’ll  be
walking  home in the dark of the night  ”
she turns to me with a soft knowing smile
” We’ve done that before haven’t we ……… we’ve always been  alright “

I reach out my hand and wait
and without looking back she reaches hers to mine
There are many mysteries in this life to wonder of
as all us
grave tenders  find
—————————————————————-

For all  mothers and fathers
and for the children they never” lose”

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EdF

Sometime in my life, I started to write about my life journey, or in poetry, in story perhaps to sort out the missing from the found perhaps and enter them into a place of safekeeping. The soul of the writer is perhaps best described in their own words, emotions and thoughts. If these poems or stories touch something inside you then maybe I have succeeded in sharing. I will not write about my self in profile, because self isn't so important in writing. Only the journey in words and the sharing are important. Why would we say "Now about me!"... I'd rather write about life, nature, serenity ...

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