The Grave
Sorrow does the grave not know
nor bitterness or greed
In the darkness of the grave
lies no fear or inequality
The grave knows not of cloudy days
nor humid moonlit
summer nights
or the way the bluejays sang to me
nor the way my child gazed at me
And little does it know at all
of passageways through heavens door
The grave is but a benefactor
offering sweet clemency
Restoring my soul from transgressions
of the world above
Easing the encumbrance
of my mind
The grave surely is a friend to me
Craddeling me far below
the springtime daffodils
never disappointing me
nor leaving me behind
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