Evening among the Stones

Under cedars, in the beeches

in the garden’s deepest reaches,

sing the crickets and the sparrows,

robins, and the draught that harrows

every hollow of the windy, wooded hill…

Where those sleepers are reclining,

and above their tombs, repining,

kneel the loves they left behind them,

who return here yet to find them

and commune again together, sweetly, still…

As the honeysuckle flowers

lull away the weary hours,

here all spirits, in communion

so with nature, find reunion

in the waning light of afternoons at ease…

With the daylight, sadness dimming

like this lake where swans go swimming

through the lilies as its silver

mirror dims, goes dark forever,

souls may meet again as often as they please…