Summer Solstice by Tom Hirons,
“In a graveyard in June,
The sun arcs high over
All the withered trees.
Light pours onto the tombstones.
Despite the terrible news,
The skylarks and the blackbirds sing,
Relentless as the turn of time.
I lift my face to the bright horizon.
I have heard the death-groans of
A thousand of my dreams,
But the life-song of the unknown
Still rings loud in my ears.
Here, in love beyond the odds,
Is where I’ve made my home.
I’ll sing and dance all Summer,
In hopeless hope among the flowers,
Beyond optimism and despair.
I don’t have a choice:
I’ll make love with this world
Whether it is blooming ever outwards
Or withering towards its tomb.”