The Living Among the Dead

"Seize the moment! Live in the moment! That's all we really have is this very moment!" Yet moments, like snowflakes in sunshine, a tapestry of beauty and splendor, melt away; One by one they come and go;  We grasp at them, as if we could take hold, roll them into large balls and shape them into something that will last a bit longer. And yet, a short walk through cemetery jolts us into the reality that, the end of all moments is at hand . . .

Some are remembered, some are longed for, some are ill-reputed, and some . . . forgotten!

Reverently we walk, the living among the dead; The dry grasses crunch beneath our feet and we wonder if the dead are stirred to come and visit with us as we brush away dirt and cobwebs from their long forgotten tombstones. 

We find names that match people we love; our heart is pricked; We read ages, some had a lifetime of moments; some breathed but a few days of this earths winds. My heart weeps for the mama's and papa's who were left with moments of broken and bleeding, and it aches for lovers whose joyous moments were torn asunder with the knife of grief. 

And I discover, that even among the tombstones, where the crumbled earth cradles what's left of the one who once grasped for the snowflakes, pockets of beauty are strewn- a holy repose of eternal moments, reminding us, that the soul lives on . . .

"It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting; for that is the end of all men, and the living will lay it to his heart." Ecclesiates 7:2