Restlessness In a Graveyard

The winter is sagging in strength And wary is becoming the graveyard Of its inhabitants, lying in their tombs, As they seem to stretch themselves Up from their wintery drowsiness To embrace the signs of life Defrosting leisurely from the fatigue In the vegetation around. Soon will the greenery pick up The trees will blossom And the flowers will dance To the songs of the birds But the graveyard In all its loneliness still Would dare not shed Caution to the wind And risk its occupants, Inspired by the sniff Of the rejuvenation around, Taste the nectar and walk away Into the world outside To be disdained as ghosts If ever they made their presence felt By all those whom they had loved With all their hearts Before their final depart.