Canongate Kirkyard
A mist-like shawl embraces the earth
Weaving through jagged broken teeth
Of age-worn stones,
A blanket for the souls beneath.
The sacred and profane
Lie side-by-side
Now in silent harmony
All quarrels, all feuds and all desires
Now laid to rest.
Walking slowly up the stoney path
Glancing left and right
To note a point of morbid interest
Or a date obscured by soot and moss.
I pause to look for clues and consider
What brought them here?
The looming presence of Canongate Kirk
Broods over its silent congregation
Offering hope that by lying in its shadow
Will bring them closer to paradise
And secure a place
For their immortal souls.
Their mortal presence,
These worn and broken stones,
Erode with elemental force
And will return to dust and ashes
As those below have surely done.