Why so sombre in the graveyard?
Why the wall around the ground?
What's so precious there to safeguard?
Not the contents of each mound !

Flesh and skin have gone forever;
bones are mostly all that's left;
personality is never
in a body life bereft.

Why then value stone and marble,
names and dates that gather moss,
cliched phrases, words that garble
honest pangs of pain and loss?

Back in former times, I grant you,
grave and headstone spun a thread
anchoring hope that souls continue,
mooring memories of the dead.

Now with photos, film and videos
all the good times glow again;
loved ones live in aching cameos,
revel in "Remember when . . . ."

Knowing life is only temporary
(life eternal can't be willed)
surely death is not a tragedy
(lest a life is unfulfilled).

So no need to mourn a person;
rather care for loved ones left;
loss and loneliness are certain;
loss however is not theft.

What remains is new life growing,
birds and badgers on the tomb,
procreation blindly flowing,
babies forming in the womb.

And if souls can really see us,
let them watch the kids at play -
skipping, squabbling, running raucous
round the graveyard all the day.

Don't let's have our ideas hidebound,
let's help youthful vigour thrive;
change the graveyard to a playground -
bring the cemetery alive.