Restlessness In a Graveyard
The winter is sagging in strength
And wary is becoming the graveyard
Of its inhabitants, lying in their tombs,
As they seem to stretch themselves
Up from their wintery drowsiness
To embrace the signs of life
Defrosting leisurely from the fatigue
In the vegetation around.
Soon will the greenery pick up
The trees will blossom
And the flowers will dance
To the songs of the birds
But the graveyard
In all its loneliness still
Would dare not shed
Caution to the wind
And risk its occupants,
Inspired by the sniff
Of the rejuvenation around,
Taste the nectar and walk away
Into the world outside
To be disdained as ghosts
If ever they made their presence felt
By all those whom they had loved
With all their hearts
Before their final depart.
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