The Graveyard
If you walk past the white stonewall
Push back the quiet gate, through the rows of tombs,
Immerse yourself in the dead silence
You’ll for a moment fear – for your breath
Might ruffle the still observing trees or disturb the dead,
You might feel a sudden rush to sob, pray – give your honor
To unfulfilled dreams now mere inscriptions on cold slabs,
To the bones and rotten remains that once carried
Intelligence; emotions, faith, aspirations!
You’d realize that life itself is an honor only to the conscious,
That breath is a gift and that man is but a bundle of dreams
And that the graveyard is not for lifeless remains, but halted dreams.
2011©Jude Ifeme
Subscribe to POETICALLY SPOKEN by Email 
Push back the quiet gate, through the rows of tombs,
Immerse yourself in the dead silence
You’ll for a moment fear – for your breath
Might ruffle the still observing trees or disturb the dead,
You might feel a sudden rush to sob, pray – give your honor
To unfulfilled dreams now mere inscriptions on cold slabs,
To the bones and rotten remains that once carried
Intelligence; emotions, faith, aspirations!
You’d realize that life itself is an honor only to the conscious,
That breath is a gift and that man is but a bundle of dreams
And that the graveyard is not for lifeless remains, but halted dreams.
2011©Jude Ifeme
Subscribe to POETICALLY SPOKEN by Email 
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