A call from the Land Before Time by Reon Sylvester D Cunha

A call from the Land Before Time

There are cemeteries, Lurking in my Mind,
To be blessed, Yet Holy,
Waiting for the final journeys of people,
Surrounded by Dandelions and Lillies.

The soul was to be returned to the sender,
who himself placed it in the postbox long ago, For a limited time,
Until the winds from the east, blows away the speck of dust,
Only to vanish into a land before time.

A land before time,
Where they whisper, But no one hears,
Their memories are kept in a bouquet of tulips,
 Only to be smelled after the Eulogy.

There was a letter without any name or address,
It had come from an unnoticed person,
Far away in the wilderness,
Whose voice we could hear, But couldn't trace him.

It read "Bury me in the wilderness"
My bones and flesh don't deserve me,
I have committed sins which passed on to the subsequent generations, unholy and cared for,
You may hear my voice from the valley of flowers,
But they were never spoken,
Paint my tomorrow when the sun shines tomorrow,
And bury me in the mountains of hell,
As there's no room for saints up there ".

It was silence that took part in the final journey,
The weeping willow songs ,
The goodbyes by lavender and lemongrass,
Everyone's tears will be the same,
Until it was buried in the cemetery ,
When The rivers played "Abide in me."
And the whole archipelago felt asleep.

When we woke up , it was just another dream,
A sad time travel to another dimension,
Only to come back to another day,
Another moment and a fresh start.

Poetry by Reon Sylvester D Cunha