On The Write Path

Takk for alt (When We Dead Awaken) [JI#1]

For "Journalistic Intentions" 

When We Dead Awaken

TAKK FOR ALT

names engraved
on stone — new-born grass
cannot read

These stones are the only bones of our memories that last, once flesh has rotted away to rejoin the soil of our ancestors, the substance from whence we came each time we plucked a fruit and ate it. We will not be forgotten until all those who remember us have forgotten. In peace (Fred) will we rest. Takk for alt. Thanks for everything.

names engraved
on stone — new-born grass
cannot read

I've visited many cemeteries. From the poppies on the graves of children in Évora Portugal to the stone children in red caps and bibs known as Jizo or the honorific O-Jizo-san in Japan.
In Hellesylt, in a forgotten corner of Norway the three Hellesylt sisters lived into their 90s, one stone placed upon their remains. In death as in life? Perhaps.

three sisters rest —
golden names etched in limestone
glint in sunshine

In Sweden where my family once lived the graves are maintained until the tax isn't paid. Then the stones go to a graveyard of their own and the plots are reused. My grandmother's family rose from the frozen mud nourished by pine, water and hazelnuts. They returned to the mud over a century ago. Some many Johans, so many Carls.

new grass graves —
old stones like bones propped up
in a corner

In Yamadera, Japan silent children line the paths to shrines. In their red caps and bibs, they brave the cold and heat under leaning pines along the road to heaven. Above, the old ginkgo holds tight the yen for their passage between each fold of its bark. Every soul has a guardian, and those who help along the way.

o-jizo-san!
lend me your young arms and legs —
mine grow weary

Mausoleums and monuments for the well-known and wealthy, a marker for the poor. For the children a rusty cross, a small patch marked with stones. This is where the poppies grow in Évora. They grace those whose innocence never faded, who for ages have greeted the sun. No Roman Temple ruins stand more majestic nor marble weep as long.

watch your step —
between these bare grey stones
poppies grow

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [177.361] (13.mars.2021)