The Silent Place

Published January 15, 2015 by Naomi Rettig

Fresh flowers of pink and purple delight my eyes,
Soothing scent, aromatherapy for the soul.
Silent figures cluster closer saying goodbyes
Full of raw emotion but showing self-control.

Ghosts waltzing through fresh dew with an elegant grace,
Lovers, re-joined, time is no longer their keeper,
Free to celebrate joy in eternal embrace
After having fought then welcoming the reaper.

Weathered headstones submerging like abandoned ships
Tilting at harsh angles, pleading to be redeemed.
Black crows like mourners survey from up high on crypts
Judging stern over souls that were not what they seemed.

Fate and disease, war heroes’ forgotten glories.
All of humanity lies beneath, now at peace.
Study the headstones and imagine their stories,
Young and old taken too soon or blessed release.

Come to my silent place, my time stopping haven
Where thoughts unfurl from flowing stream to tranquil lake,
Here my worries and fears are laid bare and shaven
And stillness encircles me with comforting ache.

I’ll wait in my silent place serenely for you,
No need to rush as time is my gentle friend here,
I will wait until you are ready to come through
And hold you so closely to smother all your fear.


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