Reflections From a Cemetery Walk

I am reflecting this morning on yesterday’s walk in the cemetery. I took note of three mounds of fresh dirt (or I should soil. The agronomist in me will not allow me to call it dirt). Each mound represents a life spent. Mixed in with the mounds of soil are mounds of grief. The mounds of grief will linger. But the mounds of soil will not last long. The rains will come, the soil will settle, and the caretaker will come with his rake and level the ground. Grass will grow. I am hoping that everyone associated with the persons buried beneath the mounds of soil are at peace with that person’s passing. I am reminded of an old song written by grandfather Morgan Williams:

If you have any flowers on my grave to bestow
I would gladly receive them today
you may scatter them now while I can cherish them so
Do not wait 'til I'm laid 'neath the clay.

If you have any words that would comfort and cheer
any words that would brighten my way
you may speak them today while I am anxious to hear
do not wait 'til I'm laid 'neath the clay.

If you have any smiles that you freely would give
As an emblem of love's brightest ray
You should give them today while I am tarrying here
Do not wait 'til I'm laid 'neath the clay.

CHORUS: Do not wait 'til I'm under the clay
Let your blessings be given today
Let your kindness be shown ere my spirit has flown
Do not wait 'til I'm laid 'neath the clay.