In Time Of Peace
Here, there are rolling hills craddling valleys to hold the peaceful town. Grass greening to beyond the horizon that exhales fragrance of wild flowers. The woods bridge the meadows with the foot of the cloud covered gray mountain; and evergreens proudly stand to symbolize the human spirit. The sky envelopes the grounding multitude amidst nature pictographic scenary.
And the cementery lies at the edge of the world of the livings, quietly reflects the peacefulness of the town population. It lies gingerly amidst birdnesting trees; still and calm the tombstones meditate eternity. There lie the former merchants of the market place; and the soldiers in wars forgotten; and the housewives who dreamt love into meals homecooked; and the partriarchs and the libertines; and those whose presence graced the living world were all too swift. They all are silenced now beyond the threshold of worlds.
Flowers guard the tombs, here, smell as sweet and blossom still according to the seasons. And butterflies and bees, their wings orchestrate symphonies of murmuring sounds of art, pollinate generations of the gods' and goddesses' honeying species from nectar rich thick with beauty... Yet, death still looms in the force of blissful oblivion as the livings grasp tenaciously to their breath and beating hearts. Death seems a stranger to most as they play digilently the social games of forming opinions and passing judgement. Only the eggheads and the elderlies contemplate the final arrival in clarity and acceptance. The town citizens seem to prefer laughing at the town's fools than to be reminded of the wisdom of facing the unchangeable fact of their mortality. Like the middle runner of a relay race, the hunger to win surpasses the meaning of the crossing of the finish line. Even in their dream of a home in heaven, activities are too precious for the body to want to remember common weaknesses. Failure seems a sin and the losers needed to be ignored of. Like the earthworms in the soil of the flowerbeds in the cementery at the edge of the town, the relatives of its residents, drunkened with life, eat and drink and make love and fight and make-up as if forever is a debt their gods and goddesses owe them. If only the ending of one reminds the others of the common fate of living things on earth. If only the recognition of Death brings Love into the hearts of the family members of humanity.
