On All Saints Day
In the silence of the cemetery where the leaves fall,
And the graves are covered with chrysanthemum golden glow.
In the flame of candles, which the dark lights,
God speaks with a whisper, a memory of longing.
In names carved in a stone plate,
In the photographs of loved ones, what unity develops.
In the silent prayers of the heart,
God reminds us of life that it is passing away.
In the rain, which saddens the earth wets with work,
In the wind, what the names of the dead whisper their property.
In the wonder of the cross what he thinks knocks,
God sends hope to meet in eternity.
On the Day of All the Saints, which came together among the graves,
Where the memory of loved ones is inactive alive.
In respect for those before us,
God teaches humility, calls for gratitude.
