Stories Vanished Underfoot

Angel's hand corey amaroPere Lachaise in Paris

Flower petals rain from heaven,

An angel watches over.

Tangled branches beginning to bloom, 

Rebirth.

 

 

Pere lachaise stain glass corey amaro

 

A timeworn frame holds fragments of tinted glass.

Light pours through reflecting

Softly tinted memories

What do you hold on to when you are broken?

 

 

Reflection on Good Friday corey amaro

 

 

Layers of time past and present, light pours through the broken stained glass renders Mary holding a faceless Jesus. 

 

°°°°°

 

"he stood at the dry well
under the blush of eastern sky
and looked in

heard the shadows
of water lapping the stone wall
and the crack

of a pebble skittering down
through slivered light to
silvered shadow

what is darkness but
a pool of color resting
awaiting replenishment

shadow is only
waiting for
the return of light"

Poem Via MB at 

Find me a Bluebird

 

 

Reflection corey amaro

 

 

While at Pere Lachaise cemetery I came across this tomb which made me gasp out loud. The child's blue eyes caught mine, her ruby lips smiled, the iron gate delicately designed with flowers.

The sorrow of death and the hope of an afterlife.

 

 

Good frieday pere lachaise

 

Pere Lachaise captivates

with its silence, tombs, loved ones honored…

stray cats wander as if playing hide and seek with one another.

Fragmented stone statues, engraved words, iron gates that are unlocked… Names of people of the past and bouquets of memories with dried petals.

Messages of life and death are within the walls that surround it. 

 

 

Womannoarms

 

 

A larger than life stone statue sits with her eyes closed,

her arms are broken

her lips partly open as if she might utter a word.

Stories vanished underfoot.

Do they re bloom within us?

 



Comments

13 responses to “Stories Vanished Underfoot”

  1. Cemeteries have always seemed to me to be the outward manifestation of familial love. Reading the heartfelt inscriptions and seeing the careful tending of a gravesite reminds me of how connected we all are…one to another. We have a very small local cemetery that I visit and there is a grave a very old one that it seems no one is left to tend and the rose planted there is old and needed some tending and so I have pruned it and added a bit of fertilizer and that is all that was needed for it to renew. Makes me happy to see its rejuvenation. Love is what I hold onto .

  2. Wow! You did it, Corey. It was I who asked for photos of old cimetières. I didn’t say Père Lachaise because I didn’t know where you might go in Paris. But all I can say is, Thank You so much for these great, romantic photos of a truly amazing place, full of pathos, wonder, famous, infamous and unknown names, and the wistful mystery of ages. I send you a big hug. It was worth the wait 🙂 Also I had another request for a photo of people kissing…I saw one you took of The Kiss by Rodin so I consider that request filled and then some 🙂 Merci beaucoup.

  3. I loved Pere Lachaise. It will sound strange to some but I found it romantic, filled with love and loss and longing and hope. Your writing stirs the soul. Many thanks…

  4. I don’t know what to hang on to right now. This is my first Easter without faith. I gave my husband back to God, where he wanted to be but all I am left with is hurt. It hurts to sit in church, to sing, to listen to music, to listen to words of love and comfort. All the things our love was based on and were central to our lives.
    Every decision I try to make seems to come undone somehow,
    Time heals. I know.
    But right now God and I need to have a serious talk!
    This Easter everything feels like a funeral.
    Thank you for trying to remind me of beauty.

  5. Karen, I can only imagine the sadness and sorrow you feel on the loss of your husband. I am holding you in my prayers.

  6. My husband and I love to find old cemeteries when we travel. The stories they tell and the questions they bring to mind are always part of the adventure.

  7. Holding you close in thought and prayer as you put one foot in front of the other on this new path, Karen. Nature has always been my balm, my place of healing when He seems far away.

  8. My prayers to you Karen C. Pere LaC is one of those places I hope to get to visit. I am captivated by the history, the family, the overall feeling one gets as you enter these sacred places as if it is the gateway to life after death. Thank you, Corey.

  9. Thank you, Debra. I know people care.

  10. Thank you, Star. My brother came and spent a day gardening with me on Good Friday. Certainly a tonic.

  11. Thank you, Jan. I wish he was here to tell him all that has happened and how I am feeling. He would know how to fix things. He was good that way.

  12. Karen get mad, let God hear your pain, shout it out, let him know. Don’t hold back. Prayer is speaking truth, it is about a relationship with our inner self, it is about trust that what we speak from our hearts does not have to be edited, nor refined, but heard in the heart of God which is Love to me. So go ahead, pray your truth. xoxo

  13. Thank you, Corey. I know you, too understand. And thank you also for using your blog to always point out beauty.

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