This is a poem that my mom read when we buried dad’s ashes at the Rowley’s Bay cemetery.
In this so certain falling of the year
I fear a time to come when all
I am will be a breath in every
breeze that falls upon those now unborn
whispering in an ear that will not hear
me say that I am there.
I will be there above below around
them in the night and in the light
that touches every sight they see.
Oh give
me grandchildren of my children’s
children singing, saying in their day,
“Once in this
air
And light and space there was an ancient
one who lived as we live now in how
we think and feel and taste the world,
who knew the world we know and so
we know there is no night and know
that children of our children feeling
as we feel now will know him know us
and pass into our common air
without regret.”
Robert L. Berner
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