Amid the gently bowing branches, amid the bonny kin of flowers, a sense of serenity comes to the cemetery.
In this place of loving words, where the earth welcomes back her own, I find a tranquility, a sense of connection to those I have passed on. It is a place to feel that expansive universal love cementing in my bones. So, to me, this cemetery is place for soulful reflection, to hear the emotions with a clarity that comes with such quiet. We were sailors on a stormy sea, each blaming the other for the wind.
There is the greatest sense of love in the cemetery, for here we feel our beloved ancestors most strongly. Here we feel how they protect and guide the living.
From the earth of the cemetery seeps the love of those passed on, of the angels whom now protect and guide.
The cemetery is a marker of the love that stays when the soul moves onward.
A cemetery in these parts, with all the flowers and the trees, is as much a celebration of living and renewal as a sense of those passed on.
And in the cemetery, as one gaily lit chorus of souls, comes the most almighty uplifting sense of joy. It is as if heaven has united, as if those passed on have hope of victory, as if once more the home-fires are lit.
When the soul returns whence it came, the matter of the body belongs once more to mother earth, and here in the cemetery we honour this cycle, we sense those we love through the soul-ether.