Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Interned Gardens

Interned Gardens

To make pretty
times of gold
the pharaohs taught so well

embalm the royals
embalm the rich
to travel onward still

death has it's own
a mask so still
unless the makeup's poured
so putty thick, to look not real
yet life-like, worn and torn

We so avoid the real, and true
it's ugliness at glance
yet quiet
and quiet more
not talking, there's no chance

we look upon this
what you think,
a most untimely death
we pass our way
and smile and say
what is it that we'll miss..

We never know, us human drones
our strollings on this earth
when is our time
to make the most

so still he lies, not old, not young
a coffin there he lays
some knew him well, others did not
the stories they all tell

he was so loved, he was so kind
not small, not large, like most..
reception, party
a life
we do this, but no toast

the one we honor
miss them most
now buried on the hill

his time, our time
where did it go
the ceremony pleads
the family, friends a gathered group
a minister and more
our cries of love, forever now
these moments we will store.


Thus concludes today's entry of Poetry A Muse In Motion project.

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© Mother Lightning of Mother Lightning's Peace Garden


Anonymous said...

Well my friend, that was a Beautiful, Heartfelt piece of Poetry... A Heavy one to read and absorb, but Truly Understandable. The Flowers in the picture, were so Vibrate and Lovely, and looked so Peaceful and Tranquil. They too have such short lives... LOL, b. Malin

Mother Lightning said...

Thank u* Barb. My brother's family recently lost my sister-in-law's brother due to a very sudden passing. When something like this happpens to a loved one, & so very suddenly as in this case, it does cause this poet's heart to pause, & to ponder.

At first I wasn't sure if I was going to post this poem, but after some deep thoughts I decided to go forward, as cemeteries too are also peace gardens of the heart, thus continued prayers of peace.
And the beautiful flowers, yes the simple beauty of our working w/ nature, & the pure comfort the art of nature brings..

Am so glad u* liked the poem, thank u* dear friend.