Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Grave disposition

Grave disposition.

Century old eloquence
whispers now
where words shouted.
Elegiac reflections
here bruised and broken.
Names overwritten
in harsh winter wash
and inventive gales.
Deeds forgotten,
sins removed,
by forgiving corrosion.
But I still have your name
engraved on My palm,
time cannot erase
eternity.

4 comments:

Cami said...

I began to love cemetaries after our daughter died, and now I love any cemetary anywhere...your sonnet captures my feeling about them completely. And I did find a few really old ones, 1700's, in our local cemetary recently. How the words wear away, but as your sonnet shares, "time cannot erase eternity." Praise the Lord!

Carol said...

I'd love to be able to explore some these ancient cemeteries..My sister and I have been doing our family tree for years now and often we search out cemeteries looking for our ancestors and fortunately we have found many. Most are unmarked which is kind of sad to think if we did not seek them out no one would Know who existed in the plot of earth. I like to think that perhaps they may have wondered if an descendant may visit and place some flowers on their graves 100 years after their deaths.We also find a deep satisfaction knowing we have been able to do this..

Francine said...

Keith ... your words brought tears to my eyes. Regardless of my daily walk with the Lord, reminders like these fill me with wonder.

Rita L. Betti said...

Keith,
Thanks for the reminder that no matter how things go in this life, I haven't reached "Home" yet . . . And one day I will shout Hallelujah from my mansion and walk the streets of Gold. Praise the Lord.