Cemetery rest is alive
for me. Walking amid rows
of stones, rosary beads
in hand. Imagined bells peal
in my mind. Praying, I circle
back minus a thorny crown.

These faithful souls now crowned
by the Lord. I breathe and live.
Sober crows caw and circle,
then alight in my present row.
Centuried granite, flaked, peeled, 
yet clutching fresh dew beads.

Fingers caress polished beads;
eyes perceive a distant tree crowned
with pink flowers. My heartbeat peals.
I am drawn on by that tree’s life,
weaving around graves, where rows
have ceased and peace encircles.

Prayers travel the Rosary circle;
footsteps slow the clicking of beads
and move past row after row
of headstones. Solitary tree crowns
my journey as I touch life–
earthy bark smooth and peeling.

Now time and matter peel
away to vast oneness, circling
me with energy, vibrant life.
All is one–tree, sky, beaded
bodies of ants. I sense crown
of blossoms gifted to me. Rows

Of tears flow; my Oarsman rows.
I am His. Wedding bells peal
as my joy swells. This crowning
sense of union in creation’s circle
suspends my breath. Holy beads,
God’s presence, everywhere alive.

Connected to life, all is appealing.
God’s love encircles, smooths every row.
Each soul a bead in my heavenly crown.