A poem inspired by a trip to Arnos Vale.
Poor:
"Blessed are the poor in spirit"
Temporary Limestone markers
will be cleared for trees and growth
Monuments cost more than houses
the poor are left to bask in their silence
- costly were the words engraved.
Silent stones left untended,
their lives, one of self-sacrifice
worth less than a crumbling stone.
The friends of friendliness lie.
Rich: "Blessed are those who die in the lord" extravagant in death were those blessed in life. Angels stand sculpted in granite, watching over their dead, he was the boss, he was in charge. Even in death no other bird could come near Forever in an upright stance.
Together: Unified in death whether rich or poor, they turn their hand to the task before. Together they are given back to the earth, All are angels, equal in worth. Their wings beat with the rhythm of one heart, those who brought sunshine to others from the start Cannot keep light away, will never be lead astray, Without tyranny or strife, sheltered from the storms of life. Their souls now are blessed anchored deep, in rest.