I'm taking quiet steps through the sunny cemetery this morning; deliberate in my coming, deliberate in my thinking- only with no knowledge of what thoughts will come. It is quiet here- as regards human sounds- but the birdsong, the early spring singing- it is clear, it echoes and fills the air.
I pass by the monuments we make for peoples' lives. They surround me, covering the landscape and the hillsides. They say very little about it all, really; a piece of stone etched with a name, two dates, and if you are fortunate, maybe a phrase- some sort of wish or identifying mark. And to the stranger, their entire life is encapsulated in this single piece of stone. I look at the names and dates, I wonder what their stories are, what their lives were made of. And I wonder what kinds of stories we have, what sorts we will leave, and what bits of story will outlast us. I wonder if we will be courageous enough to leave any stories of the type that stay around, I wonder if we live lives worth the telling. I know a story that has outlived the physical reality of someone by about two-thousand years and running. But it wasn't an easy story to live.

Why do we dare give so much respect and reverence...and even care, to people who are no longer here, and yet the ones who still are....?
I can't deny I really like cemetery's. They are like gardens full of windy roads, sculptures, interesting stories (or so my imagination suspects) and very few people. Part of me is at odds with this though. It almost seems like we are trying to resurrect eden for our dead. We make these places filled with peace, stillness and beauty. But all for a body in a casket? Why do we not fill our world with more of this for the living? Maybe it is the ache for what creation was intended to be, maybe the hope that there is something else- after all this, displayed in our choice of landscaping for graves.
But someday we will see the world whole.
It won't be with these bodies, and it won't be filled with meager cemeteries and wishful thinking.
It will be bright and full.
So much so that these words do it an injustice due to inadequacy.