19/08/2024
A poem for those whom lost someone in this life:
Beneath the willow's whispering shade,
I sit on a bench, in quiet trade,
The cemetery's peaceful, solemn hue,
A place for reflection, old and new.
The willow's branches, like fingers sway,
Dancing in the breeze, on this gentle day,
Leaves rustling soft, a soothing sound,
As I sit, lost, in this quiet ground.
Memories of loved ones, past and gone,
Echo through my mind, like a sweet, sad song,
Tears fall, like autumn's leaves, to the ground,
Yet, in this stillness, peace is found.
The willow's presence, a comforting friend,
A symbol of hope, till the very end,
A reminder to cherish each fleeting day,
And honor those who've gone, in a gentle way.
In this serene and sacred space,
I find solace, a sense of peace that embraces,
The willow's wisdom, a gentle breeze,
A soothing calm, that brings me to my knees.
Amen
God bless you and yours,
Father Norbert