In morning light with wind on the sea
you wouldn’t think of all the earth holds buried,
the unremembered dreams and ambitions past.
Bones of warriors in ships of steel,
tusks of elephants, claws of tigers,
all the sharp points of advance
dulled by years passing
in the great cemetery of earth.
Over the graveyard Time walks
hearing the cries of the forgotten,
scattering seed on the hallowed ground,
to rise from the dust and ashes
and flower with impossible color
in the somber gardens of death.
Rich with life-giving imagery Don. What dies becomes compost enriched for use in new growth cycles in the Garden of this Hallowed Ground. Your poems are growing is grace and stature as the rich compost of this life accumulates within you and me, and new life currents circulate between us all. My great thanks, Brother.
“Tis a grave truth. And, yes, beautiful images.
Brilliantly reminds from whence I/we come… 7 generations b4 n 7 yet to come.
Time walks, hearing the cries of the forgotten…beautiful image!
I love the abundant life in these words that ultimately speak of things passing away.
therefore, the practice of pickling a body and burying it in casket, is a remnant of separation. True recycle in consciousness of oneness would guide a burial directly into the soil bank with no preservative. Or….cremation and casting to the wind etc. In Thai culture, ashes are put in a little organic “boat” made from vegetation, and put in a river with lighted candle, for one’s return to the sea of origin. These latter methods are beautiful. The Inuit (Eskimo) people of the arctic: when an elder senses being a burden to family or community, one “walks the ice.” Sits, and freezes slowly and painlessly, to be consumed by Polar Bear. Examples of union with the Earth Mother.
Lovely, gentle reminder of the long view.
Your work continues to speak to my heart. I am grateful for the gift of friendship and for your sharing this beautiful work. In recent weeks I have had several occasions to think of just how fleeting life can be with the loss of a pet, a friend and a family member. We are here and gone so quickly. Thank you for putting this into perspective.
Beautiful. Touches my heart. Thank you.
Tusks of elephants and claws of tigers speaks of the atrocities of the unremembered dream; sad human state of affairs. This, Don, screams loudly of a dull human heart and mind. Oh but to remember that we are the ones entrusted with the care of the gifts. Thank you for your honesty, my friend.
The earth is so powerful, turning death into good compost. Your poem is a lesson to me of Buddhist impermanence, and western “letting go”.
Thanks, Brother.
What if you went through and reconsidered every preposition in this poem–and it has, it seems to me, more than its fair share.
I’ll just show a few to give a sense of what I mean–not rewriting the poem , just showing a revision trick for tightening up lines:
In morning light with wind on the sea
Morning light, wind on sea
you wouldn’t think of all the earth holds buried,
Think of all the earth holds buried
unremembered dreams, ambitions past.
Bones of warriors in ships of steel,
Warrior bones, ships of steel
tusks of elephants, claws of tigers,
Elephant tusks, tiger claws,
Just a thought–I love the meditation here.
I love the way the earth fertilizes itself with the death of it’s forms, which are reborn anew with coming of the next season. There is both grief for what is passing and appreciation for what is soon to be born. Such is the bittersweet experience of life on this planet.