Be it gravestone or living oak, if it helps you to have a place to remember our love, then go there as long as you have need. Yet if there comes a day when you recall our happy moments and are in a better place, if you have no need of these places, that's okay too. You are alive, so live.
Carve not my name in stone so grave, yet give it flight in song and the laughter of good memories.
See how the gravestone is warmed by the light, how it reflects the bonny rays. For this is the way of death, it always speaks of life.
Upon my gravestone let the wildflowers bloom and the grasses grow long with golden seeds, for life moves on in a jocund liberty.
The gravestones were places for the moss and lichen, sitting in the shadow of the great yew trees. The bodies had long since given their nutrients to the soils allowing those people of old to live on in the flora.
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