All Souls Day 2011

Derio cemetery near Bilbao, Spain on All Soul's Day, November 2nd, 2011.
Photo from here

 I Watch The Sunrise

This beautiful hymn holds a very special place in my heart as it was played at the funerals of both my parents  - they died four years apart .

 I also loved playing it when I was in a church music group many years ago.

Lyrics to Hymn  I Watch The Sunrise

I watch the sunrise lighting the sky,
Casting its shadows near.
And on this morning bright though it be,
I feel those shadows near me.

But you are always close to me
Following all my ways.
May I be always close to you
Following all your ways, Lord.

I watch the sunlight shine through the clouds,
Warming the earth below.
And at the mid-day, life seems to say:
"I feel your brightness near me."


I watch the sunset fading away,
Lighting the clouds with sleep.
And as the evening closes its eyes,
I feel your brightness near me.

I watch the moonlight guarding the night,
waiting till morning comes.
The air is silent, earth is at rest –
only your peace is near me. 


All Souls Day Poem

Let's go our old way
by the stream, and kick the leaves
as we always did, to make
the rhythm of breaking waves.

This day draws no breath –
shows no colour anywhere
except for the leaves - in their death
brilliant as never before.

Yellow of Brimstone Butterfly,
brown of Oak Eggar Moth –
you'd say. And I'd be wondering why
a summer never seems lost

if two have been together
witnessing the variousness of light,
and the same two in lustreless November
enter the year's night…

The slow-worm stream - how still!
Above that spider's unguarded door,
look – dull pearls…Time's full,
brimming, can hold no more.

Next moment (we well know,
my darling, you and I)
what the small day cannot hold
must spill into eternity.

So perhaps we should move cat-soft
meanwhile, and leave everything unsaid,
until no shadow of risk can be left
of disturbing the scatheless dead.

Ah, but you were always leaf-light.
And you so seldom talk
as we go. But there at my side
through the bright leaves you walk.

And yet – touch my hand
that I may be quite without fear,
for it seems as if a mist descends,
and the leaves where you walk do not stir.

Featured poem of the week by Frances Bellerby from Guardian newspaper here


Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them. 
May they rest in peace.

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