The Crosses
Hear the leaves of the trees softly rustle
A background
chorus for the solos of the birds.
The
captives of the earth listen in hushed silence
As the
symphonies of seasons pass by.
I stand among my ancestors and they come to greet me.
The souls
who toiled so willingly in life, enduring hardship,
Now rest
in wait for the coming day when I shall join them too.
I feel
their love and peace permeate my innermost self.
We have this common bond, you see.
For I have
the life I do because they gave it to me.
Their toil
has given me freedom.
Their
hardship has given me strength.
And I remember …
I see
Great Grandma standing amidst the tall, undulating grass.
Unashamed,
tears drop to the ground beneath.
Quietly
she moves among the white painted crosses
Giving a
gentle, caressing touch to the ones she loves.
I see Grandmother and Granddaughter look one last time at each other
Imprinting
within their minds and hearts
What will
have to last until each sees the other again,
Always
longing never to be apart.
Now I look within so that I too may imprint in my heart
The
visible and unvisible that I see until my return.
For though
I stand among the crosses,
What is in
my sight
…Are my
beloved.
© Mary
Katherine May. June 12, 2006
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