This post was written in tangent to this photo take from Tess' blogsite, placed there as the topic driver for her Magpie Tales gathering. You may *click here* to get to the links that her contributors leave there. This session is marked as the 90th post and I presume this means ninety weeks, nearing two years of activity.
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Some of the better reasons to visit New England are the old graveyards. We had friends to visit in Vermont and I fell in love with Revolutionary War graveyards. I loved the immediacy of the past in the dates on the stones, the preservation of some of them and the neglected quality of others. As a migratory child of World War II California, I found the compressed distance to the 1700s was palpable and delicious.
My family has not been among those who bury our dead. We cremate.
I had to wait a number of years more to have someone personal to me buried in a cemetery. Now I have a couple nearby in the local national cemetery and I have used that site as a power point on the planet, a place somehow closer to God's ear. When my wife of over twenty years died I took a portion of her ashes up there - the cemetery is placed elevated on the side of a steep hill near the top - and I sprinkled her ashes in the summer dry crack behind the marble plaque that identified her aunt and uncle. I visited at least once a year for over a decade.
At one point a few years ago I went up there and made my amends to my wife's shade. Since that time I have not returned but once.
How To Spend Memorial Day
Set marble stubs, wood
painted or not in lines
drawn on the forest
floor and fenced by men
entrusted to build for us
the reservation
of the dead within
what was once not ours at all
except to pass through.
We plant our dry lives
as seeds of dissolution,
wait for them to grow.
I pledge to visit
but then declare that one day
a day better used
as a day of rest.
November 6, 2011 8:00 AM
lots of beautiful lines in this... love it!
ReplyDeleteJJRod'z
Such time for resting.......
ReplyDelete;)
Both power and beauty in your words.
ReplyDeleteI like the notion of planting our dry lives like a seed...nice write...
ReplyDeleteI like that you started this well written piece on a personal note.
ReplyDelete"We plant our dry lives as seeds of dissolution" also drew me. As did the shift from depicting the cemetery, with its marble stubs and painted wood, in an almost pagan way toward the Ecclesiastes feel of a time to visit, a time to rest. Nicely crafted.
ReplyDeleteI too have found power and healing in cemeteries, but life really is for the living. We don't dishonor those who have passed on by resting and nourishing our living bodies.
ReplyDeleteThoughtful writing about death and life....great magpie
ReplyDeleteMy favorite. I've often wondered...
ReplyDeleteWe plant our dry lives as seeds of dissolution. This is just beautiful beautiful as is the rest of the poem. K.
ReplyDeleteVery deep feelings here as I feel this loss so evoked in your words. The rivetting passage; "as seeds of dissolution"; very much a spiritual journey. Thank-you!
ReplyDeleteSo touching. A very beautiful piece.
ReplyDeleteThank you all. I am glad to be a participant in the Magpie world.
ReplyDeleteI too like the idea of planting 'our dry lives/ as seeds of dissolution,' and also the 'reservation of the dead' A very thoughtful piece. Thank you for sharing the personal background for this.
ReplyDeleteyour poem was beautiful and the introductory lines very moving. I am always interested in what we do for others that is necessary for ourselves.
ReplyDeleteThat was a very moving post, even before I reached the poem.
ReplyDeleteI visited the WW1 graves in France once. That was stunning, absolutely stunning. So many, so many un-named except to God.
Jamie
You have shared some personal moments here and very tender memories too!!
ReplyDeleteplanting the dry leaves is a great touch to this bringing it personal...also the day of rest at the end is stirring...
ReplyDeleteThe only place remembrance needs a marker, is inside each one of us, wherever we are. Thank you for this heartfelt post.
ReplyDeleteLots of good feeling in this one. I'm all for cremation, but it's the lack of a marker that worries me, as I explore in my Magpie this week, A Plot Both Great and Grand.
ReplyDeleteYour Magpie is beautiful, heartfelt.
ReplyDeleteI said to my dad I'd walk among unnamed graves one day. He spoke of them often. I may let him down on this one, sadly. I don't travel well.
ReplyDeleteIt was a very moving piece.
Memories live best in our hearts.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Being a New England girl, I found your intro interesting. We have wandered through the old cemeteries by the Meeting House in Rockingham, VT, and in Stockbridge, MA, although most N.E. towns have their own little fenced area of fascinating history.
ReplyDeleteI found your poem quite poignant but true. A cemetery is a symbol. No cemetery is necessary as long as we still remember in our thoughts and hearts.