Cemeteries are places for departed souls
And bones interred,
Or hearts with shattered loves.
A woman with lips made warm for laughter
Would find grey stones and roving spirits
Too chill for living, moving pulses . . .
And thou, great spirit, wouldst shiver in thy granite shroud
Should idle mirth or empty talk
Disturb thy tranquil sleeping.
A cemetery is a place for shattered loves
And broken hearts . . .
Bowed before the crystal chalice of thy soul,
I find the multi-colored fragrance of thy mind
Has lost itself in Death's transparency.
Oh, stir the lucid waters of thy sleep
And coin for me a tale
Of happy loves and gems and joyous limbs
And hearts where love is sweet!
A cemetery is a place for broken hearts
And silent thought . . .
And silence never moves,
Nor speaks nor sings.
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Beautiful. I am a cemetary hound--the camera and I walk/stalk the pavers, recording/discovering the histories etches upon the stones. I remember a line from the Bible that really stood out: Even the very rocks will cry out. Jesus said this in response to a crowd of non-believers. I knew he could literally make the rocks audible, but then I started to think about how the silences of rocks do speak. "Ozymandias", Shelly's brilliant poem, for example is based on the interpretions of monumental "stones"; Stonehenge; the placing of stones on top of tombstones; man-crafted stories chisled on the faces of stone--Mt. Rushmore, Stone Mountain (GA), Peggy's Cove in Halifax, Princeton University (one of its buildings features an amazing carving of religious images on the length on its side wall). Stones. Stories. Bennett's poem links the emotion aspect of cemetaries. The last stanza is particulary powerful (to me):
A cemetery is a place for broken hearts
And silent thought . . .
And silence never moves,
Nor speaks nor sings.
Words, songs just are not the focus at the cemetary--the silence of thought, loss, stillness is. A place for broken hearts. Very moving. Very touching.
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