P L A C E S T O R E S T
Een kerkhof heeft een of andere aantrekkingskracht op mij.
Vooral de oude kerkhoven, met zijn prachtige grafzerken.
Ik loop er graag rond, de rust, de stilte die er heerst, doet me vaak goed.
Vaak moet ik dan denken aan volgend gedicht:
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
By: Mary Elizabeth Frye
THE STARS CALLED YOU HOME
The stars have called you home, love.
Up high, so far away.
I think they missed your brilliance,
they couldn’t let you stay.
You’ve shone that light of yours, love.
on all the lives you touched.
We’ve known your joy for years and years,
I guess they thought ‘enough’.
They need your light up there now.
This world grows ever dark.
Your passion will rain down like love,
dripped into every heart.
The stars have called you home,
now we’ll miss you, every day.
And every night we’ll scour the skies,
to watch you, where you lay.
And when dark clouds are gathering,
and air’s too cold to breathe.
The life you lived will warm our bones,
and your star will help us see.
This poem by Donna Ashworth
The stars have called you home, love.
Up high, so far away.
I think they missed your brilliance,
they couldn’t let you stay.
You’ve shone that light of yours, love.
on all the lives you touched.
We’ve known your joy for years and years,
I guess they thought ‘enough’.
They need your light up there now.
This world grows ever dark.
Your passion will rain down like love,
dripped into every heart.
The stars have called you home,
now we’ll miss you, every day.
And every night we’ll scour the skies,
to watch you, where you lay.
And when dark clouds are gathering,
and air’s too cold to breathe.
The life you lived will warm our bones,
and your star will help us see.
This poem by Donna Ashworth