UNDER these STONES

 

In meadows of mystery, grown over with granite

 

Lies a record in dust of what once moved, thrived

 

Human discourse; our roots laid in stone tombs

 

History of the ages, families, lost loves, and poets

 

Stories they carried with them into their rest

 

What laughter came from their lips as music?

 

What tears did they cry for the agonies of life?

 

What visions did they behold that might inspire?

 

What passions did unfold at their loving touch?

 

If these stones could speak, converse to us now

 

How might we be lifted from our complacency?

 

Would we listen to their impassioned messages?

 

Would the world’s children be awakened to peace?

 

But they lie now in silence, their voices only wind

 

And hands that once caressed lie still in tranquility

 

Tell me, what now lies buried under these stones?

 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

What an exceptional theme for your prose-poem and one that I've sometimes thought about; there is indeed so much in even a solitary stone to set a person thinking.

You always marry words so beautifully, creating posts with true meaning. ' What laughter came from their lips as music? / What tears did they cry for the agonies of life? / What visions did they behold that might inspire? / What passions did unfold at their loving touch? ' I think these lines are borne out when you see the names of a couple who were undoubtedly married for years and years yet, see the names of their children who've died at young ages, perhaps because of an epidemic or yes, poverty.

(Here In the UK you can find so many headstones dated hundreds of years and one of the things that jump out are the high amount of folk in one family - you can see a large chunk of a family-tree in the circumnavigation of a large tomb.)

Thank you so very much for sharing your thoughts on this subject; they show your compassion for humankind as well as a love of words.

[HorrorMaster]

Amazing graveyard poem.

[MagiCrystal]

I often visit my family's grave yard.. I called it the Garden of Love.. I tell you why... in this place I have found my poetry...life, songs, rain, past, life, love, even the pain ...I love to sit on the grass and feel that beyond this garden..A life awaits me..and some day we will speak ... in eternity.. of course I love your poetry.. that is why I am here.. Xx0x0x0x

[Tate Morgan]

a INSPIRED WRITE OF SOME DEPTH i LOVED IT .
TATE

[Salvatore Buttaci]

Quite good. You ask a lot of important questions.

[Meredith Leigh]

I love reading your poems because even with the shortness of them, I get an entire story out of it. The description and mystical feeling that eminates off of it is quite amazing =] Lovely work!

- Kriss

[deeps]

Every head stone can speak
Behind each one lies a story of the person.
This write makes you think of what kind of
life they could have lead or had.
beautifully penned.

[LoLo]

Very ethereal and moving. I've always wondered what the answers are to these questions. This is a wonderful poem. It highlights the things we most need to think about when someone has passed. And not just someone you know, but every person who's ever lived. It's a way to celebrate their memory and remember that they had a life, they had dreams and passions and tragedies just like we do. Absolutely brilliant.

[Mark]

Your gentle rhetorical style has a way of so engaging the mind and heart, that we don't even realize that we're contemplating weighty issues! In what graveyard, for example, might I find entombed the wisdom and foresight of 1776, in this time when our Nation is on such a rapid downward spiral? The stonecutter is on the sixth of seven letters of the word AMERICA on one of those very monuments even now...Sorry, didn't mean to rant; I think the lines, "How might we be lifted from our complacency?/ Would we listen to their impassioned messages?" got me into that frame of mind! Another brilliant job, my friend!

[JohnL]

This is a fine and thought-provoking poem on a subject which must affect us all as we pass a graveyard. As a one-time churchwarden, I used to be responsible for an ancient churchyard and many happy hours were spent maintaining it, many happy thoughts and philosophies dwelt upon therein and not a few tentative delvings into the probabilities of the hereafter - particularly my own! But the predominant thought train was always the same - "Who was he - she -this man, this boy, this girl?" "How did they live for so long - short a time?" and of course "What were they like, these departed ones?" Yes thoughtful moments. Your poem states, asks, poses all this so well and as ever your care is even demonstrated in your careful and Oh so suitable choice of font (lovely touch, that).
I have one comment - it is no more than that; sometimes it is possible to create a past tense quite satisfactorily by using 'did' directly before a verb but usually I prefer the use of a standard imperfect tense, as in: "What laughter came from their lips as music?" Otherwise, the inclusion of the pronoun as: "What visions did they behold that might inspire?"
I therefore feel that the line: "What passions did unfold at their loving touch?" could more suitably be put either, "What pasisons did their loving touch unfold?" (if you wish to retain the sequence of 'did' for rhythmic reasons), or "What passions unfolded at their loving touch?" This is just my thinking on the matter - I feel that the 'did + verb direct' sounds a bit less crafted than the altenatives. I offer the thought only in a spirit of constructive comment not as a criticism of you always much admired writing.
John