In Memoriam Quietly Always Close

In Memoriam Quietly Always Close Are they whispers, then, settling So gently upon that slightest breeze wending Over the granite crosses and statues of cradling angels, Which stand in their long cemetary rows? Stating each name of the one passed on with There-on etched, too, the noting of time alive And telling of the beloved, who hum there their slow laments; Who send up colorful balloons to celebrate their love and Take far their silent greetings in the sky. Are they lullaby heartsongs, which Rise on sprigs of heaven-bound light, So tunefully sweet for love’s addressed, aided By a league of angellic composers In their lyrical rounds from above our earthly sphere? Are these the places of our hushed sympathies? The places we lay over our dear ones All the broken pieces of the grieving heart’s still longing To stay in some way forever near, and, so, we linger thoughtfully Criss-crossing the undulating final verdigris Landscape, which embraces the last remains ~ Resting on in heaven’s wait for that further journey going on. Are these faint mists surrounding So many hours of our own remaining days — Which are spent summoning back the stories, the touches, The eyes that happily cast their glance into our own — Not truly our tears Being turned to magnifying memories, Prayerfully appearing with each Dusk’s close of day and placid rise of the radiant moon? Do see that the soundless falling is our aching? Is a furor — burst of pure, white snow: A flash of a blizzard, looking nearly weightless, Landing in silence, but Incongruously, falling heavily down, into those forming crystalline layers To dress a seeming lace-like çover over all the stone markers With a luminous beauty, revealing a metaphor, ineffable ~ Blessed markers of life itself set here before us Within reach of meeting the Divine. —————————————————————————————- (c) sally young eslinger 6/5/2023 (Written for Jennifer Wilson & Maggie Hopkins in loving Memory of James Hopkins, spouse, father, & friend) Also written with the inspiring power of images of the 9,000 marking gravestone crosses in Normandy, France, and sights of Arlington Cemetary, Washington, D.C. Written to unaccompanied cello Suite 1 in G major, perfomer Yo Yo Ma Thanks be to God…