From Sun to Moon

“From Sun to Moon”

Another day’s sun—a soul to rest,
With each tear, a newborn blessed
Fades from sun to moon, moon to sun
And I wonder—where is a star in everyone?
Where are these spirits wandering here
Without stars in a night of souls so clear?

We have seen the sun rise over the graves.
We have seen the lilies blush upon the waves—
But have we seen flowers? Truly? Have we?
Are there more to these blooms than what we see?
They lie o’er these spirits in their sleep without stars,
A sleep that resembles a slumber like ours
The wind is forgotten upon their faces
From sun to moon, moon to sun in forgotten spaces
A ray from Heaven might spill upon their eyes
But they know nothing, save that our tearstain dries
In a moment without falling to the well of wishes:
Hoped-for embraces in a realm of kisses
On the brow of he who may bring
From sun to moon, moon to sun flowers of spring.

And what of the restless,
Who linger where they do not belong?
We find their graves are guestless
And the wind weeps a siren song,
Calling us to thunderous coasts
Where we lift our weary eyes
To see dwelling in silence, the ghosts
Of they who know not their own demise.
Restless souls that kneel and pray—
But we cannot hear the words they say
From sun to moon, moon to sun in harmony
They speak words that are not for you and me.
The cadaverous smell of decay in the air
Rising from the dead who wander there.
We hear the ringing of funeral bells
From a thousand snow-clad Hells.
And we weep a tear that will not dry
To see the dead who will not die
Heeding not the call of peace
That followed their decease.
It is a sad sight to behold
From sun to moon, moon to sun—unhallowed and old.
And the angels around us strike a chord of doom—
A prelude to the perceived silence of the tomb
Our death awaits us, and we cannot run
From sun to moon, moon to sun.

© 2022 Marten Hoyle