This morning I passed through the graveyard,
Head bent down, swift;
My own breath my mist,
Then I noticed the dew
And was surprised at how beautiful
The twinkling grass looked.
My pace slackened,
Ahead the sun dropped fingers
Of yellow mist though the trees,
At that moment a woodpecker sent its
Drumbeat through the air mixed with
The quiet calls of birds.
And I gazed up to find the woodpecker.
In the trees I saw a magpie, a crow, blue tits.
Then I found the drummer sending out his beat.
And I wondered if this could be anymore beautiful
As I noticed the fresh graves
And thought at their infinite slumber
Had they seen this wonder?
And with little more time
I passed back into the busy city roads
Justin Tuijl - 2015