All those people, all those lives, where are they now?

I once again did a stange/unusual/out of the ordinary thing today (besides play the piano, which I also did). I took my 15 year old Manfrotto tripod out, something I haven't done in at least 5 or 6 years. See, hubby, babe and I took a trip to Mirosevac today, one of Zagreb's major cemetries, to pay a visit to hubby's gramps and gran. So I thought, while I'm there, why not take a couple of snaps of the countless candles and graves, which is otherwise impossible to do without a tripod? So I did.

Unfortunately, many of the photos fell far short of my expectations, so I've made a resolution that should the singing career ever take off (fingers crossed!) the second thing I'm gonna buy is a proper digital SLR, preferably a Nikon. I've had enough of someone else doing the work and me not having total and utter control over my photos. I wanna put a little more elbow grease into it, do a bit more experimenting, have more control, know what I mean? So here's hoping...

And in case you're wondering, first thing on my wish list is a new dishwasher...

I'll leave ya with one of my all time favourite Smiths songs (still know the lyrics after 20 odd years), "Cemetry Gates":

From the cradle to the grave

Tomorrow is All Saint's Day, the day we remember our dearly departed, those who left this world to travel before us to the next. I remember my father, my grandparents, my aunties, Bill, Renata and Ante and other friends and family. I believe that although they are not here with me physically, they are embedded in my heart and soul and as such, are not really dead. In fact, they're immortal and will never die, at least for as long as I am alive. Then they and I will pass onto my children, my nieces, my cousins, my friends and the circle of life will go on.

Looking through my books of poetry, I came across this lovely poem by Stephen Spender and dedicate it to all those who left this world before us. Perhaps our own dearly departed were not truly great to the general population, but they were truly great to us personally. I have to admit that I especially like the second stanza. May we never allow gradually the traffic to smother with noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

I Think Continually Of Those Who Were Truly Great
Stephen Spender

I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how these names are feted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life
Who wore at their hearts the fire's center.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honor.