That Day At The Sepulcher

Soles discarded, feet bare.

I could feel
each blade of fresh grass
stabbing out between my toes,
pricking my flesh.
Impatient to escape
the soft ground.

I wanted to fall
into the rolling waves of green.
I wanted to drown
in that hill,
but the looming clouds
held me afloat
that day.

“Fine then.”

I dared to surf,
instead of sinking deeper
to find rest in the earth.

The winds moaned of uncertainty
and screamed threats,
their idle shouts would break
against the treeline;
my sails, however,
shall hold.

Even the sky
wasn’t gonna keep it together,
But the new man of the house
had a fresh reputation to uphold.

Folding my shield
I welcomed the elements.
Even as rain pelted my bluff,
I tried on a stony expression.

He’s with them now,
in that mound of
ocher and lime
I'm destined to inhabit.

It must be nature.

To yearn to leave, when we all must return one day.

I reminisce of
that day
every time my heart is tempted
to keel towards one extreme,
or when my brain drifts
absent of direction
towards the tempest.

It must be grief.

Men in mourning, betraying their dignity,
Bawling,
bumbling over half-baked words
of encouragement,
as if to still their own bleeding hearts.

Even as a child,
I doubted the authenticity
of their gratuitous displays.

The only men,
that were composed during the ordeal,
would be my own kin.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Great-grandfathers, grandsires,
fathers and sons.
Lords of my clan;
branches on a tree;
names on glorified jars.

My ancestors.

They lay still in their tomb,
with no ritual,
no lamentation,
no judgment.

Not even a disgruntled huff
about who got the top shelf,
or about the lack of real estate
as a new member joined their hall
that day.

They simply were there,
and will be there,
until I join them.

Their permanence
was the only reassuring thing
that day.