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The World is Full of Flowers

The world is filled with flowers.
The world is filled with trees.
And there stand high funeral bowers
That shade the grasses of odd lees.

Their ground is filled with bones,
The whispering dead's monotones;
Their praises to the quiet rest
Below the sparrow's singing breast.

The haze is drenched with tears
From mourners through the years.
With the dew upon bouquets
That mark our final days.

To that sorrow of the moon
To the lives that end so soon;
That shift the drear tidal waves
That wash memory of the graves.

Bidding welcome from life's deep wars
Our spirits to the stars
So that though each carcass lies
Something within again shall rise.

The tomb but one last dream
A lucid, silent stream
That doth flow through marble eyes
To the spheres within the skies.
Written by MartenHoyle (Vate C. Carmen)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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