Poem
No words necessary, nor tears allowed
for there is no connection,
just some words on stone.
Yet those words are my words.
Stark and cold,
each phrase, banal and oft repeated
still shakes my mental slumber
on this crisp graveyard morning.
Beneath the endless canopy of a grey-domed sky
stand these solemn sentinels of time,
whispering tales of lives long past
in a language only I understand.
Ancient sacred grounds, a tapestry of tales,
woven stories in earth’s embrace,
a world that slumbers in perpetual decline
while time slows to a tranquil, timeless pace.
Each marker is a testament to life
and a reminder of our shared fragility
in this hallowed place of stillness and repose.
Here we find kinship in silent sympathy.