Jan 09

reincarnation new years

I've never been to such a loud funeral.
maybe out of respect
or possibly guilt 
I sit quite still
and focus on the priest's mouth
as his lips fold around
his practiced speech
he doesn't really try and raise his voice 
either they will listen or they won't 
it's like this every year.
as the first shovel of dirt flies
and lands with a dull resonance 
on the wood
a cheer erupts
i think i am cheering too
but I am not quite sure
so many people are standing
and screaming excitedly,
they all could be threaded with the same string
i look back at the hole we dug and now refill
has there not been a death
or maybe a murder?
either way it makes me sad
as a rectangle of misplaced dirt 
is pounded into place 
with a thousand shovels
as if we are afraid of something...
I feel fabric rustle against my hands
and look down,
swadled in black cloth is a baby,
it is so full of life I am intimidated.
I'm quite sure I've not seen it before, but
all these people seem to recognize it
well enough 
and crash in waves around us.
someone forgot to water the flowers
and now they begin to wilt
around the tombstone
i can still see it between the bodies of all these people
and it makes me want to tear up
but you can't cry when you are holding a baby 
you can't cry when you are holding 
something this beautiful