A Springtime walk
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Walk upon my grave
Plant trees and flowers and enjoy the park
Sit upon my tombstone and practice horn or pipe.
Do not hide the dead
Nor be too hushed about them
For they are no more or less sacred than you.
Take walks through the cemetery
Gaze upon the tombs
Never forget you came from the same dust as they
And to the same you shall return.
Sing and play and live among the dead
Never forget that in the midst of life
We all are dying
And life exists only in the midst of death.
Out of season
A Sense of Place
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