A Place to Always
A Place to Always
...rest in peace.
My old neighborhood
was built on abundant land
just north of the great river,
beside a spring-filled grove.
It must've been pretty then.
It must've been a sight to see.
I can picture the sycamore trees
standing amidst the rolling hills.
As a child I often wondered
where they found the heavy stones
to build the thick cemetery walls.
And I would watch the diesel trains,
forever coming and going,
yet clueless where the tracks led.
A hundred and fifty years ago
that creek and the railroad
must've meant a life and a living,
while the cemetery was perhaps
a place to always rest in peace.
It may be that the satisfaction I need
depends on my going away,
so that when I've gone and come back,
I'll find it at home.
~ Rumi
