Some truths are so sacred–a poem

Some truths are so sacred

You will know the oldest graves

by the way the ground has sunk

into the silent earth.

There is a pulling down to the source,

a gravity of being,

the remembrance of our beginning

only understood in our return.

Sometimes we add more dirt

to level out the ground.

I prefer to let the land sink

with the impression of a body,

a place to collect the cool rain

as it falls on days that are thirsty.

Some truths are so sacred

we must stumble into them.

Let any memory of me be

a pool of water,

a mirror to reflect the sky

for those who pause long enough to see.

Stuart