Earth to earth

(A poem)

In this shaded corner,
sheltered from the breeze,
with stone walls rising, trees to shade,
and the midday bells to comfort us
we stand in the soft sunshine
near where earth has been moved,
to hear again the familiar psalm, the Gospel words.
Uncomfortable in their unfamiliar suits and ties,
the men stand silently together, and
no-one catches anyone’s eye;
they stand together like watchmen, while
the words are said, and the earth is thrown,
and then it is over.
And now people are speaking,
with animated quietness,
inspecting the flowers, and sharing
their handshakes, hugs and tears.
Somewhere a robin is singing.
There is a rightness to this long day’s end,
a rightness expressed in stone and soil and solemn words,
and today all those words are true,
as those who are standing find themselves
believing what they normally might not believe,
believing if only for this moment, under those age old walls.
The faith of past times still has its power,
and is still a comfort, still a strength.
Late bees are buzzing in the ivy blossom
by the gate to which we make our way,
to leave her nestled by liturgy and memories and prayers
in this place where she sleeps in the earth.
And her soul perhaps will fly.