Where the waters flow,
Meandering over stones and rocks,
There you will find me.
Visible in my silence.
Complicit in the serene quiet.
Watching stars fall out the sky, yet remain.
Hearing the owl awaken with the dusk.
The shadow of the moonlight upon the silver stream.
The shuffle of drowsy feet echoing in the darkened hallway.
A chapel on a working day.
A school on a holiday.
Till I hear the wind, walking amidst the graves;
Shifting the dying flowers ever so slowly, burnt out candles.
I am the sole citrus by the Cemetery gates;
Largely forsaken by man and beast.
I am the shade in the grove of trees.
I am the empty patch in a sea of flowers.
I am the home, where harmony once dwelt.