The Graveyard and the Mountain

 


 

I stand in a graveyard looking at the stone boxes.

Famille, Familia, Family

Those that once were living above the ground and under the stars.

 

 

 



Their remains lay here with snowcapped mountains watching.

They, who have lived much longer than humanity knows.

Who are still there.

Strong and alive


Watching the movement of people, animals and plants on their very roots that are connected to the inner fire at the centre.

The graveyard stone in grey and white

that are from the mountains and therefore part of the living earth.

They hold memory of those who have passed

just like the mountain holds memory of the earth before people,

and even its beginning long long ago from an exploding star

scattering its fragments through the galaxy of its own birth.


The Mountain however remains steadfast and silent

watching and considering,

a reminder that the earth is old but still alive,


long after the passing of those lying in the graveyard.

The graveyard connects all and will eventually disappear back into the earth, like all things that die here. 

The death and the birth,

together today,

giving balance and making everything perfect under the mountain, watching.

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